


My Right To Purge

by Nellblazer



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Purge (Movies), The Purge (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - The Purge Fusion, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Crossover, Dark Steve Rogers, Dubious Consent, F/M, Mash-up, Public Humiliation, Stark Tower, The Purge Universe, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:08:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21637129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellblazer/pseuds/Nellblazer
Summary: Purge Night comes to Stark Tower where you're spending the night with the other employees. Steve Rogers offers you a respite from the evening's party and you agree because, after all, spending Purge Night in an office with a superhero is the safest place in the world.....right?[I’m on a bit of a dark whim at the moment so started this because the inspiration was too strong. This has very overtly dark themes. If you’re offended by non-con and misogynistic violence, please don’t read. This is also likely to have themes of sexism, racism and graphic violence like the movie/TV show going forward.]*Do not replicate my work elsewhere without my express permission*
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 144
Kudos: 388





	1. Hour One

**Author's Note:**

> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> Warnings: Non Con
> 
> Happy Reading!  
> \- TLP xx

_"_ _**This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, Fire, and Emergency Medical Services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 a.m. when the Purge concludes. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn. May God be with you all."** _

The shutters to Stark Tower started descending, blocking the natural light out. You could feel the building humming as the machinery did its work, locking you all inside.

You watched the world fall away as the rest of the tower was watching the announcement. All you were left with was an eerie blue glow from the screens before the lights kicked back in.

“There we go folks,” Tony announces. “Here's to another Purge holiday. Please understand that if you leave this building, we can't be responsible for your safety. Please also note, none of us have waived our right to Purge. Keep that in mind. I don't have any current grudges though, you're all welcome.”

There's a small titter amongst the employees and the superheroes before the music resumes and everyone helps themselves to champagne. You don't move though.

You hate this holiday. You've hated it ever since you had Purgers break into your old apartment and torture your roommate. You'd only escaped by jumping down the garbage chute and hiding amongst the filth, praying nobody would come down to find you. Twelve hours of constant alertness, of inhaling the scent of rotten and putrid waste and you'd never forgotten the screams echoing down the metal chute as everyone you knew was snuffed out. The guilt wrecked your mind completely.

You'd only come away with a cracked rib and a sprained wrist but the nightmares didn't stop for years.

“Are you okay?” Tony places a hand on your shoulder making you jump in surprise.

“Uh yeah. I'm not very good around this time.”

“Lost someone, huh? Shoulda told me, kid. I could've gotten you some good therapy as a company bonus.”

“I just don't like to talk about it. Bad memories.”

“I understand but if you want that offer, come back to me tomorrow, yeah? Relax in the meantime. I didn't fly all these charcuterie trays in for nothing. Eat up.”

“Yes Mr. Stark.”

“Tony, please. You know I hate formalities. You process too much of my personal shit to be so formal.”

“Sorry, force of habit,” you smile.

“You can go in the office to hide out if this is too much. God knows even _I_ need space sometimes from everyone else trying to take the title of biggest ego,” Tony smirks. “But I insist you take some food with you.”

“You got it,” you're cheering up a lot now.

Your first Purge Night in Stark Tower and it was already much easier to bear than bolting up in your little bunker underneath the house. After all, you were surrounded by a bunch of superheroes, you should be relatively safe.

You load up a plate before swiping a magnum of champagne and start heading up to the floor above. The elevator is about to close when a hand comes in between the panels, stopping the progress.

You look up to see Steve Rogers looking sheepishly at you as he snakes in.

“Sorry, I just wanted to get away. Tony's parties are always a little..uh...loud for me.”

“Yeah I know what you mean,” you smile politely.

You'd only ever had professional dealings with Steve, casual small talk and occasionally you would grab coffee for each other. You don't think you've ever seen him switched off like this but he had a bottle of beer in one hand and a plate of cheese and artisan breads in the other.

“Usually I just go and draw on Purge Night,” he continues on. “Seems nicer to create than destroy.”

“That's a really nice sentiment.”

Steve Rogers just went up in your estimations.

“Have you ever purged?” he asks.

“No. No it's not who I am,” the answer comes out a little more furious than you meant it to.

If Steve was taken aback, he didn't show it. Instead he just nodded wisely.

“I didn't think you would've. You're too gentle-natured for that. Hey, would you mind if I drew you? I promise I won't intrude but I just like having live subjects sometimes. You can still eat and do what you were going to.”

“You want to draw _me_?” you blink.

“You have a beautiful face, if that's not too forward.”

“Thank you. I'd be honoured.”

“I'll join you in your office once I grab my pencils,” Steve flashes a million dollar smile.

You're left to step out into the corridor, feeling incredibly flattered that someone like Captain America thought you were beautiful. How many other girls could say they'd been drawn by the great hero?

He eventually joined you, setting up on your little couch with his sketchpad whilst you sat in a chair eating and drinking. It was nice, it was quiet.

You couldn't hear anything of the chaos outside. You could even pretend the Purge wasn't happening at all.

“You have such good bone structure,” you heard the occasional compliment from Steve and it made you feel very special in that moment. “I love how your hair falls.”

An hour or so passed before he finally seemed done and he beamed at his own drawing.

“Can I see?” you ask eagerly.

“As long as you understand I tend to be very classical in my work. I don't draw people in office clothes.”

“Oh that's fine. I'm just curious,” you smile and he stands up before turning the pad around.

You didn't quite expect to be drawn as if you only had scraps of sheer fabric on. It was beautiful and you looked like a renaissance painting but to know Steve was imagining you that way?

“Do you like it?”

“You really have a talent,” you settle for, not wanting to burst his bubble; I mean he had gone to a lot of effort for you.

“I wonder if I could do another?” his eyes sparkle with enjoyment. “Have you ever thought about being a life model? You would be fascinating to sketch.”

“Life....uh no. I'm not very comfortable with taking my clothes off,” you stammer.

“Would you do it for me?”

You become uncomfortably aware he's almost boxing you into the chair by the desk and you have no way out except to jump over the furniture. His height and bulk is becoming intimidating.

“Sorry I'm not-”

“-Come on,” his hand reaches out for you, stroking down your cheek. “I won't tell anyone. This will just be between us. I won't draw your face if you're worried about it being seen.”

“Mr. Rogers, I don't want to.”

“Call me Mr Rogers again,” his voice dropped an octave. “You sound like a secretary.”

“Steve, I'd like you to go,” you're shaking a little now.

This is too much. You'd never taken Steve for being forward or particularly creepy but your skin was crawling with every new sentence.

“I'm not going anywhere,” he says matter of factly. “I want to draw you and I get what I want. _Nobody_ has ever said no to me.”

“Yeah well I'm saying no now. Please leave me alone,” you try to stand your ground, hoping you weren't such a bad judge of character that you missed any red flags about Steve prior to now.

“This dress says you don't want me to leave you alone. All those tight little skirts and silk blouses you always wear don't either. You wanted my attention. Now you have it. So strip before I do it for you.”

“Are you insane?!” you blink. “I don't dress for you and I'm _not_ posing naked for you. Let me go!”

He grabs your wrists in one hand before tearing a strip from the bottom of your dress and using it to bind your hands together. Before you can scream, he clamps his hand over your mouth before tearing another strip off and using that to gag you.

“Now sit down,” he growls.

“Fuck you!” you try to yell through the material.

“I just might if you're nice enough,” he smirks.

“Why are you doing this?” you're trying to struggle as he pushes you to sit on the chair.

“Because I can. It's Purge Night, sweetheart. You think I'm some golden boy? You think I don't have needs? I never put them first and I'm _tired_ of being the poster child. I just wanna do something selfish. I really like you, you know. I just wanna capture some of that beauty. I'll take a reference photo so you won't be too cold for long.”

You're subject to an undignified undressing as he yanks down the zipper of your dress, dragging the fabric off your body before unhooking the strapless bra and letting it fall onto the floor. Finally, he hooks his fingers into your underwear, leaning over you and looking in utter reverence at every inch of skin as it's revealed.

“I knew you'd be perfect,” he breathes, stepping back and taking out his phone and snapping pictures from different angles.

You're trying not to cry but the tears are cresting in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Steve notices and groans heavily.

“Oh sweetheart, your expression is just _gorgeous_. So much life. I need to immortalise this.”

You feel humiliated, degraded even. Steve had reduced you to nothing more than a living doll.

“I think I have enough pictures now,” he holds your chin in his hand and you're aware he could easily snap your neck with one jerk of his wrist. “You know what? Why am I holding myself back? Why am I _still_ trying to be heroic? It's my right to Purge and I want to take the woman who has been driving me crazy for a year.”

“No! Please!” your eyes widen as you try to get your protests out with your mouth muffled.

Steve bends down and smashes his lips to yours, moaning obscenely. You can't pull away, he has you tightly pressed to him.

“Your lips taste sweet. I wonder how you'll taste....here,” his fingers wander down your body, coming to rest just over the lips of your pussy. “I bet there's an edge to you. You play nice in work but you have that look to you that just screams you're different in the bedroom.”

You can't help it now, you're crying openly. How fucked up for America's favourite son to be exercising his right to Purge and to be doing it on you.

“Oh no, baby, shhh, it's okay,” he coos almost lovingly. “Don't cry. This will feel nice. I like doing this.”

He prises your legs apart, sinking down and you could feel the brush of his beard against the top of your thighs. No matter how hard you tried to struggle, it was useless against his strength.

You were subject to the feel of his tongue delving between your folds, seeking the small little bud before dragging down to open you up. You felt him dive into you, tasting you and you hated that your body was starting to heat up.

“God it's so much better than I imagined,” he's speaking like he's delirious. “I bet seeing you cum is divine work.”

He really goes to town then. You're fighting the noises you want to make. It's shameful that some part of you is even responding to this.

Try as you might, you can't shake off the impending build. Steve is just too good at what he's doing as his tongue swirls, stiffens and laps at you. The traitorous orgasm is just about to crest before he shoves two thick fingers into you, finally breaking your silence as you cum hard, pussy twitching.

“I can't wait to feel how you are around my cock,” he grins, coming back up and grabbing under your ass to lift you onto the desk.

“Please stop!” you attempt to kick him but it hurts you more than it hurts him.

“I don't think so,” he smooths his hair back before unbuckling his suit trousers and unleashing his cock which was frighteningly huge.

“Help me!” you try to scream.

“Nobody's coming, doll. It's just you and me.”

He's lining himself up with you and you think he might tear you in two. There was no way this was going to be a painless experience.

“Hey Steve, Friday said you were up here with.......” Bucky opens the door and his eyes widen when he lays eyes on the scene before him. “What the hell is going on?”

“Sorry, we were doing some roleplay. Forgot to put the do not disturb notice on,” Steve grins warmly.

“Roleplay?” Bucky looks uncertain.

“HELP!” you yell, trying to break free.

“She's really in character,” Steve's hand digs into your thigh to try and shut you up.

“Doll, are you honestly into this?” Bucky asks you directly and you shake your head violently. “What the fuck, Steve?! Get off her!”

“It's my right,” Steve keeps repeating fervently. “I can do what I want tonight.”

“I thought you were better than that!” Bucky moves forward, grabbing you under the arms and yanking you backwards off the desk into his protective embrace. “You wanna be a disappointment, go fuck some Purge whore out in the streets. Leave her alone.”

“She's mine. I own her tonight,” Steve growls, tucking himself away. “Give her back and let me have my fun then I'll go back to the party.”

“No!” Bucky pushes you behind him. “Are you fuckin' serious?!”

“If you don't, I won't stop 'til I get what I want and I don't care if you're in the way, Buck. Enough of being Mr Perfect.”

“Who even _are_ you?” Bucky looks devastated. “I'm walking out with her and if you try that again, I'll kick your ass back to Brooklyn.”

“Don't make me Purge you.”

The silence was deafening as Bucky processed what Steve had just said. You entirely forgot you were bound and naked in that moment, too shocked to do anything.

“You'd really do that?” Bucky chokes out. “You'd kill me over this? What happened to 'til the end of the line'?”

“Maybe the end of the line is here. I'm not playing nice any more.”

“Fuck you, Steve. Stay away from her, stay away from _me_ ,” Bucky ushers you out into the hallway and into the elevator, shielding your body from potential eyes before taking out the gag and undoing your hands. “I'm....”

“I know,” you say softly. “Thank you. He wouldn't stop. He just wouldn't stop.”

“I need to get you some clothes,” he stops the elevator at the rec floor and drags you out towards the men's changing room for the gym, rifling through a locker before handing you a tank top and sweatpants. “It's not glamorous but-”

“-It's great, thanks,” you pull them on before he hands you some sneakers. “I don't think they'll fit.”

“They're Stark Tech. They'll fit,” Bucky says simply.

You step into them and they immediately mould to your feet. Experimentally you jump and the cushioning is unreal.

“What do we do now?” you look up at him. “Do you think that's the end of it?”

“No, no I don't,” he's warily checking all the exits constantly. “Steve is a stubborn bastard. I need to hide you.”

“Where?”

“I don't know yet. He knows this building very well. I....shit, run!” Bucky shoves you towards the other door just as Steve bursts through the other, breaking the lock like it was nothing.

You hare out of the door but not fast enough for Bucky's liking as he grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, speeding up as he makes for the stairwell. He jumps staircases at a time, spiralling down and down and you see the crazed Avenger behind you, gaining.

“Give her back, Bucky!” Steve yells. “She belongs to _me_!”

The shout echoes off the walls as Bucky barrels through the ground floor door into the lobby and Tony drops his champagne flute in shock as Pepper shrieks a little.

“Woah, where's the fire, Barnes? You're interrupting my private talk here,” Tony tries to stop Bucky's path.

“Steve. It's Steve, he's losing it. He tried to rape her. I have to get her somewhere safe,” it comes out as a babble of information.

“You know I can't get involved. It's Purge Night. He's allowed to do what he wants. None of us are Purge exempt. Can't say it's not incredibly disturbing that Captain Straightlaced has gone wild but I can't stop him.”

“The hell you can't,” Bucky growls just as Steve makes it downstairs.

“Tony, do something,” you hear Pepper whisper.

“The best I can do tin man is open the main door for you. Either you stay here and Steve gets what he wants or you can take your chances out there,” Tony sighs.

“You're not seriously thinking about it, are you Buck?” as Bucky sets you down, you can see Steve is smirking. “She's not worth the carnage out there.”

“At least I know what's out there,” Bucky counters. “I don't know _you_ any more.”

“It's one girl. One hour. That's all I want.”

“You can't come back from this. It'll change your soul, Stevie.”

“You won't go out there. I know you won't. Just give her back.”

“No, Tony, open the door,” Bucky instructs before looking you dead in the eye. “I'll protect you. No matter what. I promise.”

“You go out there, I'm gonna follow,” Steve puts his hands on his hips like he's admonishing a child. “You can't run from me.”

“I only need to run for ten hours,” Bucky hisses back. “Do it, Tony.”

The shutters start coming up and you can see the fires flickering in the distance. Were you really going to risk going out on Purge Night to get away from Steve? Bucky couldn't keep you hidden in Stark Tower but maybe he could out in New York.

It was a big gamble though and a gamble that could cost you your life. Which was better to risk? Steve defiling you or potentially getting murdered?

“Let's go,” you tug on Bucky's arm.

“Run all you like, little mouse,” Steve wags a finger at you. “I'll find you and I'll get what I want and maybe I'll keep going until the sirens start.”

“My god, Rogers. You're sick,” Tony looks disgusted.

“I don't need a lecture from a degenerate like you,” Steve snaps.

“We're outta here,” Bucky grabs your hand, pulling you outside where the sounds of chaos finally hit your ears. “Climb on my back. You don't run as fast as I do.”

You hitch up across the broad shoulders, taking one last look at Steve who's in the doorway. You know he's toying with you, probably thinks it's a fun game to chase you but you've never felt more sick than you are now.

“We'll be okay,” Bucky murmurs back to you. “Hang on.”

And you raced off into the anarchy, blending in with a group of Purge revellers in neon tutus before you finally lost sight of Steve....but for how long?


	2. Hour Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky run out into the Purge but Steve is right behind you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Non-con, violence
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> \- TLP xx

You wended down several back alleys, coming to rest behind a Chinese restaurant that was boarded up with cheap plywood. It was a sad indictment of the recent Purge insurance inflation that they couldn't even afford steel shutters.

“We'll stop here,” Bucky lets you down. “I need to think of a plan. I need to get you somewhere safe and somewhere that Steve doesn't know about.”

“Do you think he'll find us? Honestly?”

“I...I don't know,” Bucky half looks at you before looking back at the floor. “If I were Steve, I'd go to the nearest NFFA station and use their tracking cameras to find us. We need to move through dead zones.”

“But he's out here too. How could he use the cameras?”

“Stark has a link to them sometimes for tracking ex-Hydra agents. They're connected to our phones. Facial recognition technology.”

“Shit. Okay, deadzones. Maybe a change of clothes, hats.”

“You're very practical,” he's finally holding your gaze. “I would've thought....”

“I don't have time to be a crying wreck,” you say firmly. “I have to survive ten hours of carnage with Captain fucking America chasing after me. Breaking down is a luxury right now.”

Bucky nods in agreement and admiration before motioning you to creep along the alleyway with him. He points across the street to where there's a thrift shop with the windows smashed to pieces.

“We'll go there, change and then move. Stay close to me. Don't wander off.”

You didn't need to be told twice. Every sense was alive as you prowled across the street, eternally looking, eternally checking.

This was a situation you'd never wanted to be in. Outside on Purge Night.

You stepped over the ruin of the window frame, trying not to disturb the glass and make a noise. You'd gotten into the back of the racks, quickly tearing off your clothes and grabbing some thick jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, taking a battered baseball cap and jamming most of your hair into it to make yours look short. Bucky did the same, dark camo and a bodywarmer with his own hat.

“Bit of a transformation from earlier,” he tries to smile and you know he's attempting to lift your spirits up a bit.

“This is how I look when I'm not in work,” you quip back.

“Come on, we need to move before-”

But he's cut off by a screeching of tires as a group of Purgers pull up, intent on raiding the line of stores. They're clad in masks with a red octopus logo that you recognise as Hydra. Immediately Bucky goes stiff next to you, hand on the gun he'd brought with him.

“They're not actual Hydra agents,” you put a hand on his shoulder and he recoils heavily from your touch. “Sorry, I didn't mean-”

“-It's fine,” he cuts you off. “Just don't do that when I'm concentrating.”

“They're just punk kids,” you point at them. “The Hydra mask was a big seller this year.”

“Who makes fucking merchandise out of misery?” he snarls, body coiled tightly.

You knew why he was tetchy. He'd been tortured for years and made to serve as their top assassin. Only recently and after a visit to Wakanda had he been able to throw off his programming.

“That's capitalism for you,” you murmur. “Anything for a quick buck.”

“We need to go before I shoot them out of principle.”

“You wouldn't do that.”

“Don't tell me what I wouldn't do on Purge night.”

“I know you wouldn't, because you're saving me.”

Bucky sighs before looking at you with a tormented expression, “You're very naïve...but I like your optimism. Now come on.”

He grabs your hand, pulling you through the remnants of the store before stepping out onto the street again. After walking no more than four paces, you see a flash of silver that flings itself in front of your face and the sound of bullets punching around you, ricocheting off Bucky's metal arm as he shields you.

Faster than you can comprehend, Bucky shoots all of the Purgers in the Hydra masks, each falling out of the car and sprawling onto the road. It was a perfect aim between the eyes every time.

“Shit,” you breathe. “Shit, fuck, shit. Oh my god, they're dead.”

Bucky growls, pulling you into another alleyway before shoving you against the wall, hand jammed over your mouth to stop your babbling.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses. “You can't freak out on me now, doll.”

“But they're dead,” your eyes feel impossibly wide. “I've never seen....”

“They shot at you and I stopped them.”

“We could've run away though, we could've-”

“-You think this was going to be pretty? You think we'd just find a bunker and hold off? If you're precious about me shooting anyone who tries to harm you, maybe I'd be better off going back to Stark Tower and you can try this alone, huh? Huh?!”

His fierce blue eyes boring into you, you felt incredibly small and you couldn't help but tear up again. None of this was your fault. It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

He notices your expression and softens a little, his grip on you relaxing, “Look I'm sorry but we're not gonna get through the night if you're too prissy about killing. I promised I would keep you safe and away from Steve and I'm trying to do that. You need to be prepared to do things you'd never ever want to do. Can you do that?”

“I don't know,” you whisper truthfully.

“You need to make a choice then. We can continue on or I can take you back to Steve. It's your decision, doll but just know you might need to take a life tonight.”

A life for your dignity. Was it a fair trade? Could you really murder if you needed to?

“Make the decision quickly,” Bucky looks down the street. “I think I see Steve.”

You whipped round, spotting a tall broad figure in the distance walking with that same authoritarian stride that Steve always did. He'd found you already.

“Let's go,” you tug at Bucky's arm, watching the silhouette approach with complete dread. “I'll do whatever I need to do.”

“Alright,” Bucky drags you to the car, pulling the body out of the driver's seat before getting in.

You hurry around to the passenger seat, pushing aside your revulsion at dragging the corpse onto the tarmac before closing the door. Bucky drives off so fiercely that you jam yourself into the seatbelt for fear you'll get thrown against the window.

“I know one place he might not get to,” he says, eyes on the road as he swerves around Purgers and converted vehicles. “But it's a gamble.”

“A gamble is all we have right now.”

“Sit low in the seat and keep away from the doors,” Bucky orders, his jaw clenched.

You don't argue, keen not to get shot at again through the windshield. You just sink down, occasionally looking at your saviour and feeling miserable that you didn't see it before.

He was hurting as much as you were about this. You'd been so caught up in what Steve did to you that you'd forgotten he threatened to murder his best friend for the privilege. You could see the sorrow written all over his face.

What a fucking mess.

After about fifteen minutes of winding down back streets, he finally pulls up, nodding for you to get out of the car. You follow him closely, hearing ear piercing screams from the adjacent road, someone shrieking for help.

“Leave it,” Bucky says firmly. “We can't help them.”

“I know. Doesn't mean it feels right walking away though,” you murmur.

“Never does.”

It's beginning to dawn on you just how haunted this man is who's protecting you. That makes you feel incredibly guilty on top of all the other emotions you're feeling right now to add to his pain.

“Top level,” he takes you into a rough apartment building, an old style elevator with sliding metal grates ahead. “If Steve comes, we have a chance of escaping. Basement is too easy to get pinned down into.”

“So we wait as long as we can then.”

“That's the idea, doll.”

You step into the elevator with him, the journey up completely silent save for your loud breathing as you try to calm down. In for five....out for five....in for five....out for five.

“Does that really work?”

It's not mocking, it seems like a genuine question.

“It did the last time I got myself in a bad Purge situation,” you say quietly.

He seems like he wants to ask but thinks better of it, choosing instead to put his hand in the small of your back to guide you out and around to the end of the corridor where he picks the lock of an old looking door and opens it.

The apartment is pretty minimal but it would do. You only needed to hide for about another nine and a half hours.

“Thank you,” you look at Bucky gratefully. “Even if this doesn't work out in the end, thank you for trying.”

“I guess in a way I should thank _you_ for showing me who Steve really is,” he avoids your gaze. “I never would've thought.....get some rest while you can. We may need to move soon.”

You just nod and walk to the bed, curling up on it in the foetal position as if that would give you some comfort. You were tired, so tired already from the shock of everything but you didn't know if you could fall asleep. The image of Steve leaning over you with that wild look to his face haunted your mind every time you closed your eyes.

You glanced at Bucky who was watching the door but seemed to sense you were staring and just gave you a quick reassuring smile before resuming his position. You were safe right now. You could afford to relax. He would take care of you.

Slowly you let the weariness take you. You'd need your strength soon enough after all. It was best to sleep.

**

Steve watched through the fire escape, his nose pressed against the glass.

_Of course_ he knew about this place. Bucky had been stupid to think it was a secret. Steve already knew every former safehouse the Winter Soldier had ever used when he was trying to find Bucky all those years ago, plus he'd tracked you with the NFFA cameras straight here.

He quickly ducked out of sight as Bucky started patrolling around the room, guarding you as you slept on the dirty bed.

What he wouldn't give to see you in _his_ bed, to hear your sweet morning greetings right next to him instead of across a desk. You'd be right there, rumpled from sleep, hair splayed across your beautiful face as the covers masked your soft naked body.

His cock was hardening just thinking about it.

He'd get to have you soon though. The sleep gas he'd set up in this room to capture the forma Hydra assassin was still wired up and he'd already activated it. It wouldn't be long now.

Even as he mused about it, he could see Bucky's head dropping slightly. Now he was leaning against the wall and slowly sliding down it.

It was time.

He put on his rebreather mask and broke the lock on the window and entered, seeing Bucky's eyes try to widen as he approached.

“Not good enough, pal,” Steve tuts a wagging finger at him. “I know everything about you and I was prepared. Now I just get to use this stuff for a different purpose. Sleep.”

He turned his back on his friend, knowing Bucky didn't have the strength to stop him any more. He advanced on your sleeping form, tugging the shirt up and exposing the skin.

“Oh sweetheart, why couldn't you just behave for me?” he murmurs, taking off the mask and kissing your stomach. “But that's not your way, is it? You like the fight, you like the struggle. I could feel it when I touched you, you were so so wet for me. I'll take good care of you, I promise.”

“Get off her!” Bucky slurs, trying to get up.

“Shoulda let me have her to start with, Buck. You're stealing my Purge time with her.”

“She doesn't want this, stop it. Please, Stevie. I'm begging you, don't do this,” he's crawling now, hand reaching for Steve's leg. “Don't throw away who you are.”

“You don't know who I am,” Steve kicks him hard in the temple, pushing him away. “Nobody does. A lot changed in those five years, Buck, during the Snap. I realised I was allowed to be selfish sometimes.”

With Bucky sprawled out on the floor, dazed and in no state to hinder his progress, Steve undoes your jeans, yanking them down along with your underwear as you slept on. He still had the scent of you from earlier but he dropped his face between your legs, breathing in as his tongue reached out to lap the mess he'd created a mere hour or so ago.

You were still soaked and he listened to the little moan you made in your sleep as he let his fingers slip into you again. You were so warm, so tight and you accepted him so easily. You were made for him.

“So beautiful,” he withdrew, leaning up and kissing your parted lips.

Something solid collided with his head, flinging him into the wall. He felt blood trickle down from his hairline as he looked up at the unsteady Bucky who was yanking your clothes up, slapping you hard across the face to wake you up and putting you over his shoulder.

As Bucky turned around to run out, Steve saw your terrified face as you finally came back to consciousness. He loved that expression on you, so....vulnerable.

“I keep getting tastes but I'll get what I want eventually,” he says loud enough that you'll hear as he stands up, wiping his forehead free of blood and licking his lips that still contained your sweetness.

He felt a bit dizzy but nothing was going to stop him. He deserved this, he was _owed_ this. Years of fighting for this festering world and you were his reward.

He'd have you before the night ended. That was a promise. No headstarts this time.


	3. Hour Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is hot on your heels and he's not playing nice any more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, mentions of non-con
> 
> Merry Christmas!
> 
> Happy reading  
> \- TLP xx

You'd never been more terrified than when you woke up with Bucky slapping you hard and the feeling of somehow being invaded.

For a brief second, you wondered if Bucky was just as much of a bad person as Steve was until you saw the worry in his eyes and knew something must be happening. Locking eyes with Steve to your right, it confirmed another dark suspicion.

He'd found you and violated you, though thankfully not in the worst way as his pants were still on.

Your jeans weren't done up any more as Bucky hared out of the room with you over his shoulder and you so desperately wanted to fix them, the mundane urge driving at you but you couldn't. You just had to keep running.

Bucky jumped down the staircases and you got flashbacks to Stark Tower though, in little over a minute, you were deposited on the ground and told to run to the car.

You flung yourself into the passenger seat, immediately locking the door and belting yourself in as Bucky did the same. It wasn't long before Steve appeared, hair falling into his eyes and that insane determination to his gaze as he spotted you and grinned.

“Start the fucking car!” you yell.

“Hold the fuck on, I'm doing it!” Bucky snarls back, turning the key as the engine roars into life and he starts driving off.

There was a loud clunk and then the spinning of the back tyres as they whined in their pursuit of the ground. The whole carriage lifted upwards at the back and you would've been pitched forward if you hadn't put on the seatbelt.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Bucky whirls around and you look back to see Steve holding the rear bumper up, stopping the car from moving. “Shit!”

“Floor it!” you beg but as much as he tries, all you're doing is wearing the tyres out, smoke starting to rise from the front ones, the pressure too much.

“I'm trying!”

You don't even know you're doing it until you reach across, grabbing Bucky's pistol from his suit pants and turning around in the seat, firing out of the back window. The glass splinters, cracking around a perfectly formed hole as Steve drops the car in surprise, yelling loudly.

“GO!” you scream and Bucky wastes no time in speeding off.

You remain in your position, gun trained out of the back in case Steve tried again...or maybe you just wanted to know if you'd hurt him. Either way, it took you a while before you sat straight again.

“You did good,” Bucky says quietly after a minute or so's silence. “Most people shoot like scared morons. Did you have training?”

“After that Purge night where I almost got killed, I took every course I could. I didn't want to be that unprepared again,” you stare at your hands, clasping the gun for dear life. “I just didn't know until now if I could actually shoot when the time came.”

“As much as it pains me to say, doll. If it's a choice between Steve's life or yours, take the damn shot,” Bucky grits his jaw. “I don't have a clue what happened to my best friend and if this is the way he's going to be from now on....well, I don't wanna know him. When we were kids he was always the straight and narrow, you know? This ain't him. Whatever happened during the Snap, it changed him.”

“A lot of people changed in that time,” you nod.

“Did _you_ vanish?”

“Yeah. Came back to dead parents and someone else living in my apartment.”

“Fuck. Sorry to hear that. I got snapped too,” he sighs. “I wish I hadn't seeing what Stevie's become. I didn't realise I was the only thing holding him together.”

This is the most conversation you've had with Bucky collectively during your tenure as Stark Industries staff but you already found him easy to talk to. You're pretty sure he never confided like this with many people either.

“Don't blame yourself. Grief does stupid things to people,” you lean back in the seat. “Look what the hell it did to this country. Everyone disappears for five years and then the government is saying population control is not so bad after all. Here we are with this stupid fucking holiday.”

“They're just making Thanos into this idealist,” you could see Bucky's knuckles tightening on the wheel. “Some great misunderstood philosopher. You know, I had the head of the CIA tell me the Snap shouldn't have been undone? It's fucked up, doll. I _hate_ this fucking night. I spent years trying to fix my head from doing shit like this every day and people are just doing it for casual fun.”

“They think it won't affect them,” you muse. “I saw my local barista go on a full blown rampage and target every customer who was rude to them throughout the year, then go back to work the next day like they hadn't just caved a young man's head in with a George Forman grill. I still see him now and the looks he gives people like he's starting a new list in his head.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky mutters. “I hear there's support for a senator who wants to repeal The Purge Act but she's nowhere close to running for office yet.”

“She will be one day though. Maybe we'll see it in our lifetime.”

“Let's just focus on making it through tonight.”

He drove aimlessly, swerving violently at points to avoid Purgers until you reached a checkpoint manned by women with neon tutus and neon painted guns. Bucky tried to edge forward but they shot out the front tyres, causing the vehicle to careen sideways, skidding a halt and crashing into the barrier. You jerk forward, the seat belt going rigid as it slams into your sternum and knocks the wind from you.

You note Bucky puts out a protective arm to try and keep you in the seat but the crash is not the worst you've experienced.

“Get the fuck outta there!” a shrill young voice comes. “Or I'll shoot through the fucking windows!”

You immediately comply, hiding the pistol in the back of your jeans as you walk out with your hands up. Bucky joins you.

“Are you blind, bitch?” one of the women pokes you in the side with a rifle end. “You don't see this fucking checkpoint?”

“I'm sorry, we didn't know. It's our first time out,” you try to appeal to some sense of good in her, the naïve angle.

“Oh shit! I know this dude!” another one pipes up. “That's an Avenger! Ho got an Avenger protecting her. What's say we see how far the metal goes down? Take off your fucking pants, hero.”

“No,” Bucky stands there, a coiled ball of rage.

“You see this?” she rattles her gun. “That means _I'm_ in charge. Show Mamma what you're packing and maybe I'll give you a good ol' ride.”

“Don't talk to him like that,” you spit without thinking.

“Ohhhhhh, they smooshin',” the first girl cackles. “Gotta take her out before you can have fun with him.”

You have no idea why you stepped in front of Bucky, shielding him from their gaze. The predatory way they're dragging their eyes over his body is making you feel as sick as the stuff Steve was saying to you earlier.

The one good thing to come from it is that Bucky grabs the pistol from out of your jeans and headshots every single girl as they fall down like ducks in a row. You don't even feel revulsion any more. Just a sense of relief.

“We'll have to keep going on foot,” he discards the pistol, picking up the rifles and slinging the harnesses over his head.

He's just about to start walking when he turns and looks you dead in the eye.

“Thanks,” he mutters with real sincerity. “Nobody's...nobody's ever defended my honour like that. You're a really unusual gal.”

“I don't like people speaking that way about others. It's not right.”

“I appreciate it,” there's a small smile from him before it falls into an expression of worry. “LOOK OUT!”  
You barely have time to turn around before something is pressed into your neck and all of your muscles start convulsing, locking into place. Your legs give out and you crash to the floor, twitching madly only to see that Bucky has been snuck up on too because he was too distracted trying to get to you.

“Oh these two will fetch a _really_ high place,” you hear a thick local accent. “Sling 'em in the back a' the truck Mitch.”

You're manhandled and thrown into a pick-up truck bed, landing on top of a terrified middle-aged woman who shrieks around the cloth gag. You can't wriggle off her though, your limbs still out of your control as Bucky is tossed on top of you afterwards. They lash you down with ropes until they bite into your skin and you're completely immobile now, sandwiched between the woman and Bucky.

There's a tap on the side of the truck.

“Roll it out! Carnival is gonna pay us a sweet sweet dime.”

Fear grips you at those words. Everyone had heard of the Carnival, the Carnival of Flesh. It was a relative orgy of violence and gore where unsuspecting citizens were snatched and sold to the highest bidder. Once you were sold, your new owner could use any of the facilities to inflict a torturous death, be it stoning, burning at the stake, a Texas Chainsaw Massacre slashing or even witch dunking.

Did you really run away from Steve just to die the most horrible death you could?

“Bucky, I'm scared,” you whisper, wedged against his chest as you look up at him.

“Me too, doll,” he murmurs. “Me too.”

If even Bucky was scared, just how fucked were you?


	4. Hour Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're caught and sold to the Carnival of Flesh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, Incel mindset, Non Con
> 
> Happy reading!  
> \- TLP xx
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

“Get the fuck up,” you're yanked out of the truck and a sack jammed over your head as they force you to walk forward.

You can barely see anything through the weave of the bag apart from light and dark and you tentatively step, feeling the ground with your toes. Someone gets impatient with you, grabbing you by the back of the neck and clamping a firm hand over one of your ass cheeks to get you to speed up and you blindly move.

“Bucky?!” you call out.

“I'm here,” he sounds faint, somewhere behind you probably. “I'm here.”

“Shut the fuck up!” another voice and you hear a thud and a wheeze.

“What are you doing to him?” you demand, wildly turning your head.

“None of your business, baby,” the hand slides from your ass in between your legs and grasps there, making you squirm. “It won't matter in an hour or two anyway. I hope they leave something left of you. Shame to waste good pussy.”

“Please just let me go.”

“Not when you could get me some serious G's. Now get moving.”

You're jostled and shoved forward until you hear a cacophony of laughter, screams and dying throes all around. You must be in the Carnival by now. It smells like an abattoir. The rankled scent of sweat, of piss, of shit and fear.

An exchange happens in hushed tones next to you and finally the sack is drawn off your head just in time for you to be shoved into a caged pen with other scared looking people. They were all huddled into the centre, no one daring to touch the sides.

“Are you okay?” Bucky is thrown in behind you.

“Yeah, groped a little but not hurt.”

“I'm getting us the fuck outta here,” he strides to the chain link fence and stretches his hand out.

“NO, DON'T DO THAT!” an elderly man shouts but it's too late.

Bucky's metal hand touches the chain and he instantly goes rigid, convulsing. Several people rush to prise him off where he collapses in a heap.

“It's electrified,” the old man explains. “Stops us from trying to get out.”

“So there's no escape? We just have to....” you trail off, gesturing to where the auctions are taking place.

“I'm sorry,” he puts a hand on your shoulder. “It shouldn't be your time yet. Pray you only get a pervert rather than a psychopath. Me? It's too late for me anyway.”

“Grab the next three!” comes the call.

“It's not too late. We'll get you out of here,” you babble, clinging onto him. “We can do that. We have a chance.”

“Don't waste your energy,” his eyes sparkle sadly. “I'm nobody.”

Guards start pulling two people out before grabbing hold of the man. You desperately try to hold your position, getting in a tug of war with them but they ultimately dislodge your grip and cart him out.

Bucky gets up, holding you protectively from behind as you watch the man get sold for ninety-nine cents as he's yanked away in chains by a gleeful teenager who immediately slaps him across the head for the fun of it.

“I can't do this,” you're shaking violently. “I'm not ready to die.”

Bucky says nothing and that makes you even more panicky. This didn't seem worth it any more. An hour of violation versus a slow and torturous death.

“I should've stayed,” you whisper. “I should've just let him have what he wanted.”

“You didn't know,” Bucky's arms remain firmly around you. “Nobody could've known we'd end up here.”

“Next three!” it's announced.

They start choosing the next victim and a guard comes up to you, intending to pull you out but Bucky just snarls at them.

“We're a package deal,” he growls. “Pretty girl and an Avenger. Can't say much better than that.”

“You're not gonna make this easy if I try to separate you, are you?”the guard sighs.

“Nope.”

“Come on.”

You walk out with Bucky, trembling as you hit the brightly lit stage and immediately there's catcalling and whistling from every gender as you're both presented.

The host revs up the crowd before going back to the mic, “Annnnnnnnd two for the price of one here, folks. One big ass moody Avenger with the vibranium arm, worth a fortune on its own, but pair that with this sweet little girl next door. Imagine the contrast when Purging these two! The dark and the light. Let me start the bidding at a very reasonable ten thousands dollars. Do I hear ten? Ten at the back, twelve in the middle, fifteen now, twenty-”

“One hundred thousand dollars!” somebody yells.

“Woah, big money here tonight!” the host laughs. “Someone _really_ wants that arm. Now one hundred thousand, any advance?”

“One hundred and twenty thousand!” a woman shouts.

“One hundred and thirty!” the original male pipes up again.

“Any advance on one hundred and thirty, going once, going twice, SOLD! What a sterling deal! Enjoy your Purging.”

“Slap an electric collar on the White Wolf,” your new owner demands.

He looks cruel even from a distance. The office middle aged man who probably fades into the background during regular life. Now he has a chance to be heard, to be seen and to enact his revenge for perceived slights. You were the object of his fixation along with Bucky and would probably bear the brunt of his shitty day to day.

They held guns to Bucky's head as they attached a shock collar to him, throwing the remote the buyer before forcing you both out into the general arena. You, in turn, have a generic leash attached to you.

“So glad to meet you properly,” your owner greets you with a smile that seems underused. “I'm Martin and you'll be my Purgees tonight.”

“Martin, you don't have to do this,” you start begging. “Please, we'll keep you company all night. You don't have to hurt us.”

“That's where you're wrong,” he pulls out a badge marked Stark Industries and says your surname. “I've seen you around the building, thinking you're too important to mingle with the rest of us lowly admin staff. You didn't even remember who I was just now.”

And you still don't. You have no idea who he is.

“You asked me to requisition some mission forms and didn't even look at me. Oh sure you said thanks but a bit of human decency would be nice,” he continues.

“I'm sorry about that.”

“You're only sorry because I have your life in my hands,” he smiles politely “As for you, Mister Barnes. You're just _outright_ rude to me. Pushed me aside, not even full sentences.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky adds. “I don't owe you shit.”

“Stop it,” you nudge him in the side. “Listen Martin, why aren't you at the party? Do you Purge often?”

“First time,” he fiddles with the remote. “After listening to the Bobby Sheridan show, his words just gave me so much purpose. I'm fulfilling my destiny.”

Bobby Sheridan, the pro-Purger radio host. You couldn't stand to listen to it at work because his cheery optimism on the subject made your skin crawl.

“Martin-”

“Shhhhh!” he puts his hand over your mouth and you get the smell of strong antibacterial gel. “Time to learn some manners.”

You're lead past the burning stakes, the French revolution guillotines, the Spanish Inquisition torture tent until you hit the European Witch Trials one. Inside is devices like fingernail rippers, toe screws, breast maulers and a wirrying post but to the left is a dunking stool and a huge tank of water.

“If you're not guilty of being a bad person, you'll survive this,” Martin's eyes sparkle fanatically. “As for you, you get to watch, Mister Barnes. Then I have a special treat for you.”

“I'm not gonna stand here and –fuuuuuuuck!” Bucky half collapses into the doorway as the collar goes off, zapping him. “FUCK YOU!”

“To the post,” Martin gestures and Bucky reluctantly stands there. “I've enlisted the security team to help me pin you down. I dare say if I tried myself you'd just get free. I'm not stupid.”

Big burly men with rifles came to cuff Bucky's hands behind the post and slip the wirrying noose over his neck, twisting at the back until it dug in just enough to be present but not enough to strangle. You, in turn, were manhandled to the dunking stool, strapped in as you stared into the backlit water, trying to keep yourself together.

“Now, little miss. Say you're sorry like you mean it this time,” Martin moves to the lever.

“I'm sorry, Martin. I didn't mean to be rude. My job can make me ignorant,” you try but no sooner had the words come out of your mouth than the lever went and you were plunged into the cold water.

The temperature shock nearly stole the tiny breath you had left but you kept it together, trying to remain calm and not thrash about. Your arms automatically strained against the binds, trying to pull free as you saw Bucky through the distorted water and heard his warped voice yelling for you.

Then suddenly you were rushing up and sweet air filled your lungs again.

“Wrong answer,” Martin tuts. “The job is not what made you ignorant. Try again.”

“ _I'm_ just ignorant,” you go for.

“Correct. Ignorant, prissy little stuck up bitch. Just because you're pretty doesn't mean you get to look down on the rest of us. Just because Steve Rogers moons over you like a lovestruck puppy doesn't mean you're special.”

Even the admin staff knew Steve was obsessed with you and you'd never noticed at all. Just how blind _were_ you to everything this year?

“I _don't_ think I'm special. I'm trying to get away from Steve because he tried to rape me tonight.”

“Shouldn't have given him the signals then,” Martin shrugs unsympathetically. “You're always smiling at him, always a small joke. No wonder he thought you were interested.”

“So it's _my_ fault?!” you cry out indignantly.

“Don't!” Bucky tries to warn you but you've angered Martin so much he drops you in the water again.

It feels much longer than ten seconds before you're struggling to get out, too unprepared by the dunking this time, not enough reserve air. Your chest is tightening, begging you to breathe and the urge is becoming harder to ignore. You can hear your quickening heartbeat echoing wildly in your ears as a tiny stream of bubbles that would've been your scream escapes your mouth.

And, just before you take that fateful final breath, you're surfaced again, spluttering madly, sobbing with the exertion of nearly succumbing to the end.

“There we go. There's the raw you,” Martin laughs, that sad soporific laugh. “The you without the bravado and the attitude and the #metoo veil to hide behind.”

You don't care any more. You're terrified beyond speech. The very real possibility was that you were going to die here, to be drowned by a man who thought you were the worst person in the world, not for not saying thank you but for having no eye contact as you did so.

“Take me instead,” Bucky struggles against the metallic cuffs and you note the side over the metal hand is bending ever so slightly. “Leave her alone....please.”

“Is she yours?” Martin asks.

“No, just please don't hurt her any more.”

“Why should I do that?” Martin walks towards him, leaving you cold and dripping above the water tank.

He reaches around Bucky's neck to twist the winch just a little so you can see the rope biting into his skin. That was the trigger he needed to finally wrench his metal hand free of the cuff as he grabbed Martin by the neck and crushed his windpipe to dust.

In his dying moments, Martin throws his remote at the lever which knocks it just enough that the old machinery gives out and you have seconds to take a deep breath before the stool falls into the water again.

This time you have nobody to pull you up. Bucky's still got the noose around his neck as he's fighting to get it off and you don't have much time remaining.

This has to be it now. Your final moments.

You can feel your energy slipping away, your hair wafting around your eyes as you hit that panic point again, trying to wrench your hands free, kicking wildly.

“Help!” it comes out as an angry spurt of air as your vision starts tunnelling in.

A splash in front of you and somebody tearing the dunking stool to pieces before pulling you to the surface, clapping your back to make sure you breathe. The air feels ragged as you draw it into your starved lungs.

You're pulled out of the tank and deposited on the ground.

“Thank you,” you babble in between chest wracking sobs. “Thank you.”

It's only then you notice the shape on the floor in front of you. Bucky was lying there, twitching as the collar fired off.

So who had saved you?

“That's alright, baby. I'm here now,” Steve's voice came from above you. “Boy you got yourself into a lot of trouble, didn't you? Would it really have been so bad to stay with me? I gave you a good time, didn't I? You were so beautiful when you came for me. I could give you more. Just come back with me to Stark Tower and I can save you from this nightmare.”

“I...” you stammer as he rolls you onto your back, stroking your sopping hair out of your eyes.

“But of course I'll need a little apology from you first,” he continues on. “I'm forgiving, sweetheart but not _that_ forgiving.”

“What do you want?” you don't even have the strength to fight any more. Your arms are so heavy from the lack of oxygen.

“I want you on your knees,” the tone changes from adoring to deviant immediately. “You do this and I'll make the rest of the night so good for you. I'll give you anything you want. I'll make you cum for hours.”

“And if I don't want to?”

“Then I'll just take what _I_ want,” his eyes narrow. “And believe me when I say, I can take a really long time when I'm in the right mind for it. So choose the nice option.”

You give up. You're too scared and you've nearly died a few times already. Bucky was unconscious from the electrocution. Steve had won.

“Fine,” you can't even look at him.

“There's my girl,” he caresses your cheek before moving up and undoing his pants.

He's already hard, maybe with the flush of victory but you're faced once again with that terrifyingly large cock. He holds it tight at the base, making it swell and become even _more_ engorged.

“Get that pretty mouth around it,” he orders, holding a hand to the back of your head in a way that's meant to be affectionate but you know he just wants to show you he's in charge.

You hesitate, looking to the prone figure next to you on the floor and then to the tank where you nearly lost your life before opening your mouth and letting him slide past your lips. It's uncomfortable and awkward trying to fit him in and your jaw is already aching with the strain.

“Oh god,” his head falls back. “God I have _dreamed_ of this moment. Come on, sweetheart, use that tongue. I wanna......shit.... _yes_.”

His moans as you shut your eyes, pretending he was someone else as, trying to make a good job of it, you swirl the flat of your tongue along his length. The grip in your hair becomes tighter and his hips buck against your face, chasing a deeper feeling.

Why the hell were you feeling that dull throb between your legs? Was it instinctive or were the noises he was making finally getting to you? You never knew you could loathe your body's reactions this much.

“Such a good girl,” he praises, the handsome cruelty of his face lost in the sensation. “My good girl.”

At once, his hand leaves your hair and his cock is half yanked out of your mouth. You open your eyes to see Bucky trying to reach the shock collar remote, punching Steve in the face but one buzz and he's dropped to the floor again, yelling in pain.

“Oh you stupid idiot,” Steve kicks his friend in the side. “What did you hope to achieve with that?”

“Leave her alone,” Bucky growls. “You wanna do something this night? Purge _me_.”

“I don't think so, pal.”

“Then I'm never gonna stop fighting you,” Bucky staggers to his feet.

Again he convulsed as Steve pressed the button on the remote.

“You think you're so moral,” Steve sneers. “That you're _better_ than me? You're nothing, Buck. You used to do shit like this all day.”

“I'm not the Winter Soldier. I'm James Buchanan Barnes.”

“And who was he, really? The guy who'd cheat on girls? The guy who hung around with the skinny kid so he could feel like he was doing his good deed for the day? The guy who nearly chickened out of signing up to the war?”

“I'm not perfect but I'm not _this_ ,” Bucky gestures around him. “And you were my friend, Steve. I didn't care what you looked like. I cared about who you were as a person which, right now, I don't give a fucking shit about any more.”

Steve zaps him again before pulling a gun from behind him, presumably in a holster from the strapping around his shoulders. He cocks it before pointing it at Bucky.

“Think you're so damn high and mighty, huh? Let's give you a choice then. Either you fuck her or I'll shoot you.”

Bucky looks confused for a moment, “Shoot me? Steve you wouldn't do that. This is all hot air. This-”

Crack!

The gun went off, punching into Bucky's arm where it hit the bone with a sickening snap. He howled, clutching the entry point as Steve waves the remote threateningly in his face.

“So now you know I'm being serious, show me how good those morals really are. Hold her down and fuck her hard or the next bullet will be in your head.”

“I'm not gonna do that,” Bucky spits angrily. “I'm not vile like you.”

“I'm gonna give you to the count of ten, Buck,” Steve laughs, winking at you as you're still knelt on the floor. “What's it gonna be? Swallow your pride or....One.....Two.....”

“Just shoot me,” Bucky urges. “Fucking shoot me. I'm not being you. No fucking way. SHOOT ME!”

“...Six.....seven....”

“Bucky, don't!” you plead with him.

“I'd rather die knowing I tried to be a good man, doll. I won't do it.”

“....Nine......”

“BUCKY!”

“Ten.”


	5. Hour Five and a Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's caught up to you and he's not in a kind mood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THESE WARNINGS:  
> Violence, Non Con mentions, Dub Con (Voyeurism, humiliation, degrading language)  
> This chapter is designed to make you feel uncomfortable. Don't read ahead if any of these warning trigger you.
> 
> Happy reading!  
> \- TLP xx  
> (Possible proof reading errors)

You fling yourself in front of Bucky just as Steve counts to ten.

“Wait!” you hold your arms out.

“Get out of the way,” Steve asks calmly. “I've given him an ultimatum and it's his time to choose.”

“Doll, just let him do this and run. You stand a chance if you go now,” Bucky whispers in your ear.

You turn around to him, flinging your arms around his neck so you can whisper back, “Just do it, Bucky. This is not worth dying for. _I'm_ not worth dying for. I give you permission to do what he's asking. I'll make it look uninvited. Just please, please don't die and leave me here alone with him.”

“What are you saying to him?” Steve grabs you by the back of the neck and pulls you away. “I can't hear over the screams outside.”

“I said it wasn't fair that he put in so much work just to die,” you answer dully.

“Would you let him fuck you sweetheart?” Steve places soft kisses to your cheek. “Am I not special enough?”

“I don't wanna fuck _anybody_ ,” you don't have to fake the tears as they roll down your face. “I just want this fucking night to be over.”

“It will be soon, baby,” he coos. “I just wanna prove to you that this pretentious murderer is not the guardian angel you think he is.”

He points the gun at Bucky again who looks more tortured than you've ever seen him. You try to convey with your eyes that it was okay. You'd rather feel undignified for a little while than see the person trying to save you get shot by someone who was supposed to be his best friend.

“Choose, Buck,” Steve says firmly.

“You win, I'll do it,” Bucky looks at the floor.

“There we are,” Steve grabs your hair by the root, turning your face to his. “See? He'd rather fuck you raw than die after all. This is your great protector. Now, both of you, follow me.”

“Not here?” your eyes widen.

“Of course not,” Steve grins and you don't like it _at all._ “They have just the stage for this sort of thing here and I've got an awful lot of money, sweetheart. I can buy a big audience....then again, I won't need to with a body like yours. They'll want to watch you get ruined for free. Now walk.”

He moves you like a puppet whilst forcing Bucky to go out of the tent and towards the secondary hangar where the more perverse kinds of Purgers tended to act out their desires. You knew the statistics; rapes were actually the highest kind of crimes committed on Purge night and there was the inevitable surge of November babies that followed.

You'd only heard snippets about what the sex part of the Carnival of Flesh contained and nothing could've prepared you for the sight as you rounded the corner with Steve controlling your path.

Immediately you were assaulted by the smell of sex and sweat, that cloying tang in the air as you looked from stage to stage at what fate you might face.

On the one side were those that liked to commit sexual violence crimes, the sadists who finished off their victims afterwards. On the other were those who just got off on rape and voyeurism. The shrieks and sobbing on both sides though....you could barely stand it.

Murder had a finality to it, an end for suffering but these people...they would have to live until the next Purge night with the memory of this one forever haunting them.

“Get up there,” Steve points to Bucky with the gun to a spare stage where folks were milling around in front of with commercial Purge masks, some choosing to show their sneering faces.

You walk up the wooden steps to the stage that was oddly slanted, not truly flat which you suspect was to give people a better show. There were dark patches of something wet on the panelling as you stepped onto it, trying not to recoil but then again your own hair was still dripping down your body and adding to the patches.

“My Avenger buddy here decided he wants the intelligence analyst that's been strutting around Stark Tower in a tight skirt for months. He's a little shy so let's encourage him, huh?” Steve announces to the gathering masses, some palming their groins as they move forward to get a look. “Strip her, Buck.”

“Strip for the Captain sweetcheeks,” a guy in an Uncle Sam masks cackles. “This _is_ for America after all.”

You feel Bucky approach behind you and press his mouth tight to your ear so Steve can't hear, “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't want to do this.”

“I know,” is all you whisper back. “But you have permission. No matter how much I scream or cry, just know you actually have consent. That's important.”

“Thank you,” he starts grabbing the hem of your long sleeved shirt, the movement impaired slightly by his injured arm. “Please forgive me.”

It comes over your head and you automatically cross your arms over your bare chest, your bra long since missing in Stark Tower. The catcalls were getting louder and you tried to block out what they were saying, concentrating on Bucky's laboured breaths as he forced himself to pull down your jeans and underwear, leaving you exposed.

“Shit I bet that pussy tastes like heaven!”

“I just wanna get my hands on those fucking hips and destroy her.”

“Look at those tidy fucking tits, huh? I'd love to bite those nipples 'til she screams.”

“Turn her around so we can see her ass!”

These were some of the comments that made it through and you tried to just look at the light so you couldn't see the jeering faces.

You step out of your jeans until you just have your sneakers on but even that was not naked enough for them.

“Cap, let's see those feet! I bet she got some damn fine arches,” a guy in a neon eagle mask shouts out, furiously fondling his cock through his pants.

“You heard, Buck,” Steve pulls up a chair and sits, looking more amused than anything. “Everything off.”

“Step outta them,” Bucky says through gritted teeth, like it was paining him to do so.

You shuck out of your sneakers and with no socks, your bare soles touched the damp, wet floor and you just wanted to flinch in on yourself. You were standing in the end product of someone's worst night.

“Kick her legs apart and spread her pussy,” a woman in a grotesque Marie Antoinette costume demands shrilly. “I wanna see if she's pretty _all_ the way down and if her pussy is as wet as her hair.”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve chimes in. “Show them what you've been after all this time.”

“Fucking bastard,” Bucky hisses in your ear under the pretence of kissing it.

“Just get it over with,” you feel like you'll collapse at any moment.

He reaches around your body, nudging your legs open before his fingers delicately pull your pussy lips open, showing the entire crowd the most vulnerable parts of you.

A collective rippling groan and a surge of people trying to vie for the best spot to ogle you. You'd never felt this humiliated and, as you looked over at Steve and saw his sparkling eyes and hard cock still pressing against his pants, you knew that's exactly how he wanted you to feel.

“Oh fuck, she _is_ wet!” someone says in awe. “Coat the rest of her in it. I wanna see her glisten.”

This was turning into a live peep show and you just kind of rested back against Bucky and zoned out as he complied. You could barely feel his touch, you buried yourself that deep in your own psyche.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart,” Steve walks up to the two of you, gun still held tightly in his hand. “Present and accounted for. Now remember what we said, Buck. Hard. I want you to admit you're just like me and deep down, you wanna ruin her.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky snarls before forcing you to your knees where he kneels behind you.

You weren't prepared for his metal fingers to go roving in between your legs and pushing into your heat, causing you to squeal. He grabbed you by the neck to hold you in place before thrusting them in and out in quick succession.

“Fuck yeah! Make her cum when she doesn't want it! I fucking love to see the confusion in these whores' eyes,” you're aware of a voice somewhere in front of you.

You turn your head away but it's not any better to witness what's happening next to you, as a young man is brutally fucked by an older guy over what looks like one of those old gym horses you'd see in schools. The young man was hysterically crying, gripping the underside of the horse for dear life.

“Look at them in front, doll,” Bucky says out loud for everyone before nuzzling against your neck and whispering. “It's better to look at them than anywhere else in here. Trust me.”

“Not you?” you murmur back.

“Got it.”

He took the hint, bending your head back so you stared up into his face as his fingers left your pussy and gave you an odd sense of emptiness. He tracked up to your clit, rubbing tiny circles there as he kept your gaze, his eyes so full of clear dominance that god help you, you were starting to feel the knot winding tighter.

It was like everyone around you just vanished as you continued to look at him, the only person that mattered right now. That was until you came so hard you nearly buckled to the floor, loudly moaning as Bucky let go of you and your hands hit the stage, bent over and shuddering with tears streaming from your eyes.

“Holy shit, I'd love to lick that mess up.”

“Look at her, so confused, so wrecked. Fuck, man.”

“Did you hear that scream? God I need to get off _right now._ ”

As a hand wound in your hair to pull you back upright, you clearly saw most of the crowd jerking off to you, men with their cocks brazenly out and pumping, women delving into their underwear with furious movements.

“I didn't say you could cum for him,” Steve spat as he wrenched you backwards, dragging you to a prone position as you kicked to get away. “But maybe you just can't resist supersoldiers. I think I made you cum harder though.”

“Get off me!” you try to dislodge his hand and beat at his legs.

“Hey, that's a national fucking icon, bitch,” the Uncle Sam guy yells. “Show him some respect.”

They didn't even care that Captain America was joining in. They actually thought it was patriotic.

“Come on then, Buck,” Steve taunts, pinning your arms to the ground. “Fuck her.”

Bucky swallow nervously watching Steve play with the remote in his other hand before moving to unzip his pants.

“Who thinks he should get naked too, huh?” Steve asks the crowd to thunderous whoops. “Strip. Not fair if she's the only one, right?”

“You're a sick fuck,” Bucky grunts before peeling off the rest of his clothes.

He's not hard, you can see he's not and part of you admires him for that. He's not what Steve is trying to make him. The other part of you is terrified that if he can't get it up, then Steve would execute him.

“I'm just exercising my right, pal. Now, I'm gonna let go and you're gonna be rough with her, use her, understand? I want her to be uncomfortable.”

Steve moves off and goes back to his chair, sitting like a director with his hands tented and the point of his chin resting on it. Bucky in turn, moves over your body before leaning down to whisper to you.

“I can't do this. I can't fucking do this. I'm way past my comfort limit. I can't make it hard.”

“Then make me help you get it hard,” you murmur out of the corner of your mouth. “And remember I give consent.”

“Fuck, okay. Shit this is so messed up. Make it convincing, doll.”

Bucky grabs you by the neck before straddling your chest, pinning your arms down and speaking more to the crowd than to you, “It ain't gonna suck itself, sweetheart. Get that mouth around it and get me ready.”

“Yeah, suck his dick!” the enthusiastic women shrieks her delight. “Make her choke on it!”

“As you wish,” Bucky stands up instead, dragging you to your knees.

You don't have time to prepare before his limp cock is right in front of you and you make a show of resisting before finally giving in. It's hard to pretend you don't want to do it when Bucky's, and possibly your own survival, depended on you using every trick you had to force an erection.

After sloppy licks, tongue flicks and the occasional deep throat, you start to feel him thicken, grow longer. You half suspect he was doing what you did earlier and block everyone else out.

As more moments passed by, you were having trouble fitting him in any more. His girth was bigger than Steve's.

“Fuck, ain't she talented? Bet her regular guy is missing her now.”

“I'd love to suck that cock like her.”

“I'd choke her til she started crying like that.”

“On your fucking back,” Bucky pulls you off him, pushing you hard back down.

“Please don't,” you fake beg but the realism was a little much for him because you saw him hesitate for a second.

“Go on, Buck,” Steve's pants are open and he's stroking his cock languidly. “Give your buddy a show.”

Bucky stiffened with rage before descending on you, viciously yanking your legs apart and burying himself up to the hilt in one swift motion. Your back arches as you try to get used to the invasion. You've never had someone this big before

His fingers dig into your thighs before gathering your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head. You feebly kick, not really trying to dislodge him but trying to sell an act.

You can hear Steve's groans and turn your head so you don't see him getting off to this, choosing to focus on Bucky. He was struggling with his injured arm but kept going, concentrating on you, on chasing his release in you.

You found yourself wishing this could've been another time and another place. Maybe the two of you could be in a bed somewhere on a lazy Sunday morning trying to wake the neighbours. You weren't allowed to show you liked this, consented to it but Bucky was fucking you in a way that you'd always fantasised about but no regular man had the stamina to do.

And he cared. Even in the midst of this fucked up situation, he took great care not to hurt you. His grip on you was light, his pawing flesh hand on your breast didn't actually squeeze like it seemed he did.

Your head lolled to the side, eyes plaintive to the crowd to pretend you weren't, on some level, enjoying this, that Bucky wasn't grinding against your oversensitive clit.

“Look at me,” Bucky growls, grabbing your jaw and pulling your face toward him. “I'm gonna cum soon.”

It was said to the crowd but it was a warning to you. You legitimately panicked a little, forgetting the consequence at the end of this.

“I think you should come all over her, Buck,” Steve grunts, fisting his cock faster and faster. “Shit.”

With a heated groan, cum spurts from Steve's cock over his hand and you at least know that that nightmare is over for a little while.

“Shit, I can't-fuck!”

Bucky stiffens, the flood of warmth in you telling you that he didn't pull out in time.

“Weak,” Steve cleans himself up with a handkerchief. “I'll have to clean her up before I take my turn. You fucking moron, Buck.”

Bucky leaned down and whispered, “Buys you more time. If we survive this, I'll get you Plan B. Don't worry. I'm still really fucking sorry about everything I did.”

He was saving you once again in a weird way. The disgust was evident on Steve's face. Guess he was squeamish about getting seconds.

“Show us!” the crowd bays, some still masturbating, some just in a post-orgasmic glow.

Bucky pulls you to a sitting position, spinning you to face the audience and pulls your legs apart so they can see the evidence of your ruin. Bucky's cum seeps out, running down towards your ass.

Tips are thrown onstage, dollar bills and even fucking giftcards. You ignore them all though. You're waiting to see what Steve will do now.

You scramble to pull on your clothes, hastily redressing as Steve finally gets up, rezipping himself.

“And now you're both coming with me back to Stark Tower. There's showers there. I can get you cleaned up and I can put Bucky back in his room where he belongs.”

He ushers you back out into the main Carnival lobby, gun still trained on Bucky. He wasn't taking any chances still.

“Stay close,” Bucky mutters to you. “I'm still thinking of a plan. If you don't hate me that is.”

“I don't hate you,” you say immediately and he gives you a pained but humbled look. “I hate this whole situation.”

“Did I hurt you?” it's so quiet you barely hear it.

He seems extremely ashamed of himself as he stares at the floor, weaving in and out of the crowd with you, Steve a few paces behind.

“No you didn't hurt me. Thank you for making the best of what we had to do. The orgasm was nice.”

His lip twitches in a smile for just a second. Humour was the one thing Steve couldn't take from you, after all.

The people around you suddenly thicken as many of the Purgers who'd watched Bucky fuck you, inundate you with offers of cash to let them do whatever they wanted to you. The throng pushes and shoves in their desperation to get their proposals heard so that Steve gets separated from you and Bucky but it's not long until Bucky gets pushed away from you too.

You're grabbed by the Marie Antoinette woman who, up close, seems like she's never done a hard day's work in her life. She flashes you a veneered smile.

“You just have the most beautiful pussy, baby. I'll give you ten thousand dollars to lick the Avenger's cum from it and then see how you please a woman, hmmm?”

You turn your head, looking for Bucky but you can't even see him now amongst all the people. Steve is catching up though, searching for you with a kind of furious determination. You had seconds before he found you again.

What choice did you have here? You could go with the woman and overpower her, escape into the night but there was no guarantee you'd make it the final six hours until Purge ended or you could stay there and definitely wait for Steve to find you and do what he liked with you.

Neither option had an assurance of safety and you still couldn't see Bucky.

“If we go somewhere private,” you feign shyness. “I've had enough of being on display.”

“Of course. Come with me and let's get this over you. You must be freezing,” she throws her brocade coat over your shoulders and leads you behind a few tents.

You don't dare look over your shoulder in case you catch Steve's eye and give the game away so you keep marching forward, not even recoiling when the woman holds your hand. She doesn't seem like much of a threat but you'd been wrong about people before.

Most of all, you just wish Bucky could catch up to you, hide out with you. You hated leaving him but you couldn't bear another second around Steve after what he'd forced you both to do.

_Please find me again, Bucky. Please._

You just prayed you weren't making a bigger mistake by leaving him behind.

She walked you to a door that you presumed was an exclusive room but when she opened it, it opened onto the chaotic street outside instead. A van was waiting there with an ajar panel door and your heart just dropped.

“Actually, I left my bag behind,” you try to step back but a burly looking soldier comes from nowhere to block the door back into the Carnival.

“I don't think so,” the woman's voice changes from airy and vapid to clear and calculating.

She pulls aside the neckline of her dress to reveal a tiny little tattoo just on the top of her shoulder. It's an octopus. You've seen that symbol before.

“Hydra,” you breathe.

“We heard that Mr Barnes was out on Purge night but imagine our delight when we found out he was at the Carnival. You, my dear, are _very_ special. You carry the seed of a supersoldier and we're _very_ interested in making sure you fall pregnant. A soldier we can mould from birth is the ultimate goal. Did you know in all the years of the Winter Soldier, he refused to mate? What an extraordinary girl you are that he chose you.”

You look around, trying to spot a way out but it was fruitless.

“You're supposed to be finished. The Triskelion-”

“Think about it, you pretty little bimbo,” she rolls her eyes, her tongue acidic. “Who do you think stoked the fire for the NFFA in the first place? The New Founding Fathers....Hydra has many heads.”

You bolt for the end of the street but you're caught around the middle and lifted up into the air as you kick and scream.

“Throw her in the damn truck,” the woman rips off the white curly wig and discards it with an air of revulsion. “Wrap it up. Time to go.”

“Where are you taking me?” you demand.

“NFFA branch headquarters,” she says as you're put in the van.

Just before the doors close on you, she waves, smiling broadly, “Hail Hydra.”

You should've let Steve catch up to you.


	6. Hour Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The NFFA have control of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, Mentions of Past Abuse, Grooming, Medical procedure, Non-con
> 
> Happy reading!  
> \- TLP xx  
> (Possible proof reading errors)

You didn’t hate him.

That was the comfort he took from all of this madness. Even though he’d done awful things to you, you didn’t recoil from him.

Bucky still felt immensely ashamed and guilty though. He was meant to be protecting you, keeping you safe from Steve and instead he had violated you. No matter that you’d given your consent, it was still forced in a way. You only did it to stop him being killed and yet....and yet he liked it.

It was horrifying to admit to himself that he wished you were in any other kind of scenario than this. I mean, you weren’t exactly pen pals and had only had very minor conversations in the past, you’d also pissed him off a few times tonight but you’d also treated him like a person rather than a liability. Sometimes he thought the other Avengers only saw him as a burden, a ticking time bomb of mental health issues.

He liked you.

When he was buried in the warmth of you, he thought he saw a glimpse of the same kind of feeling from you. A longing for this to be a private moment. He was definitely imagining that though. Hero syndrome perhaps. You couldn’t _actually_ be interested in him.

And then you made a joke with him about the orgasm and there was a wry smile. Could something be there between you or was he just being hopeful?

He shook the sweet fantasy away of taking you on a nice date somewhere and came back to reality with a hard thump as he turned to look at his former best friend who had a grim kind of expression as he frog marched you both through the Carnival.

How could this have gone so wrong? Steve Rogers being a closet psychopath, an obsessive deviant? This wasn’t the scrappy do-gooder kid that he knew, the noble to a fault boy who stood up for honour. What did he know though, really? His brain had been scrambled by Hydra so much that maybe he would never recover every memory of his Pre-War life.

The more he thought about it, the more a hazy recollection of feeling scared swam to the surface. Steve, freshly pumped up from the serum after rescuing him, both in the private double bunk room at the army base. Bucky being drunk and Steve....Steve couldn’t _get_ drunk at that point. Of course he couldn't. Why hadn't he remembered that?

Steve leaning over him as he tried to sleep. Steve with his hand on Bucky’s thigh, squeezing and the words he’d blocked out for so long.

“ _Mighty curious thing. I could do whatever I wanted to you right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me. Shall I try, Buck? Ever thought about what it would be like if I took control? Made you beg? Would you even remember in the morning?_ ”

How could that memory have been so buried? Did he intentionally block it out? It didn’t fit with the narrative of who Steve Rogers was but Bucky couldn’t help but shiver and stop dead.

He ignored the thronging crowd around him, concentrating on this new snippet of information, the proof that Steve had had a dark streak from the beginning.

A room in a Brooklyn apartment. A shared bed. A touch in the dark which was explained as a mistake. The rustling of sheets as Bucky lay there. They must have been about fourteen then.

Girls used to say Steve was too distracted, too war focused but some would also say he was a little creepy when Bucky had set them up for dates. He had never pressed for _why_ they thought he was uncomfortable to be around though.

“Where is she?!” Steve smacks Bucky on the back, wrenching him out of his horrible past.

Bucky didn’t realise until now that he was sweating and his skin felt ice cold. He was shivering violently too.

Steve. There had always been something wrong with Steve but Bucky had refused to admit it, too happy to believe the gallant fantasy.

“What?” he blinks, noting you’re no longer next to him.

“Some guardian you are,” Steve snarls. “We lost her.”

“Shit,” Bucky swore, frantically admonishing himself for taking his eyes off of you.

He was grabbed by his collar as the angry face of Steve filled his vision, “We’re going to get her back, understand? I know you’ll chase after her like a lap dog anyway so may as well work together.”

“Get off me,” Bucky growls with such ferocity that Steve let go and backed away a little. “Let me think.”

He scanned the wider room, looking at all the exit points and spotted the back of your hair as you were nearly at the door with the Marie Antoinette woman. She had given you her coat.

“There,” Bucky points, haring in that direction.

Two supersoldiers barrel though the crowd, knocking people out of the way in their haste to get to you. It hurts that you seem to be going willingly with the woman but he knew you will have done it for self preservation. Bucky _had_ just failed you after all. The least he could do would be to save you from whoever this woman was because any attendee of the Carnival was not going to be trustworthy.

The door opened ahead and Bucky squinted as he ran to see an open van and knew you were in more danger. It’s not until he saw the style of bulletproof vest and rifles of the men surrounding you that it clicked what was going on

“It’s Hydra!” he calls to Steve who’s just behind him.

“Pick up the pace!” Steve barks. “If they leave with her...”

He didn’t have to say it. Bucky knew why they had kidnapped you. The first time he’d been intimate with a girl in decades and they wanted you for testing. He had thought by cumming in you that he had been sparing you from Steve for a while but he’d actually just made you go from the frying pan into the fire.

They burst through the door just as the van squeals away and they’re trying to keep up, sprinting down the street but gradually the vehicle leaves them in the dust

“This is Steve Rogers,” Steve says, one finger on the comms device in his ear. “I need tracking for a black Ford Transit Van. Licence plate CNY-7445. What? What do you mean ‘ _no_ ’? Do you know who I am, son? This is urgent. I....hello? Hey!”

“What’s going on?” Bucky asks.

“They won’t put out obs,” Steve seems really perplexed. “They were happy to track you and her but not the van.”

A prickling sensation went up Bucky’s neck. If the NFFA weren’t helping a government official, that meant they were in on it. That meant....

“The NFFA is Hydra,” he voices out loud. “The only explanation.”

“Shit,” Steve cusses, raking his overlong hair. “Okay. You’ve been in this for the long run so far so are you prepared to do something illegal with me?”

“More illegal than what you’ve already done?”

“Don’t get smart with me, Buck,” Steve’s face darkens. “Everything I’ve done is within the law of The Purge. We need to break into the NFFA headquarters. Are you with me?”

“For her,” Bucky nods. “Not for you.”

“Don’t take it personally, pal. Coulda saved a lot of trouble if you’d just left things alone.”

“It’s not who I am,” Bucky answers simply.

“Is it not?” Steve comes up close to him, using his height to intimidate. “From where I was sitting, seems you enjoyed her. Don’t be ashamed of your desires.”

“ _Don’t be ashamed of it_ ,” Steve’s voice from 1943 floats back to Bucky. “ _Just let me make you feel good. I promise you’ll like it._ ”

Bucky felt the bile rise in his throat but kept himself from heaving.

“You said that to me a long time ago,” he broaches quietly.

Steve looks surprised for a moment, at a loss of what to say before his brows knit together, “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Buck. Come on. Let’s go.”

  
  


**

  
  


“LET ME GO!” you scream, jerking wildly in the Hydra operatives' grip as he drags you along the lobby floor of the NFFA building.

“Uh, where are you going with that?” some corporate manager tries to stop the procession. “You can't bring in Purgers and you most _definitely_ can't bring in Stark Employees. Do you _want_ to get us caught?”

The woman steps forward, “The Winter Soldier just fucked this one. Understand?”

“Project Frostbite,” the manager breathes in awe. “Yes of course. The facilities are still underground as promised.”

“Please,” you try to beg him. “Please just let me escape. I won't tell anyone.”

“No, you won't,” the woman snorts before turning to your captor. “Take her to Doctor Schultz.”

You try to hook your ankles around the door as he hoists you over to the elevator but it's no good. With one giant tug, you're in there with him, pinned up against the wall.

“Don't try anything,” the guy says, smelling like cheap aftershave and deli meat.

“Are you _proud_ of this job?” you snarl as the elevator moves down. “Does your momma make you a big bowl of oatmeal each morning for her precious baby because he's a murdering son of a bitch?”

Whack!

Your head rockets to the side as he backhands you and you can feel the sting on your cheek but it was worth it. It was worth feeling in control for even just a second.

He takes you down a corridor and shoves you into a room before forcing your hands behind your back and getting a zip tie. The horrible voice of Bobby Sheridan comes back to you as you remembered his radio special on surviving Purge night. You tensed your wrists to make them bigger as he slipped the tie over them. Once in place and once the guy had left you alone, you were thankful to discover you had some wiggle room now.

You furiously adjust your hands, trying to shift them this way and that and gradually you feel the plastic slipping over your hand, biting as it went. It hurt, god it hurt but you eventually scraped it over the last knuckle and were free.

You looked around for a weapon, spotting a paperweight on the desk of the doctor, avoiding looking at the stirruped chair in the corner. You pocket a pencil into the back of your jeans and wait near the paperweight, hands behind your back like you'd never gotten out.

The door opens and in walks a man in his sixties, wheeling in trays of medical equipment including a lot of vials and syringes.

“What is that?” you ask immediately.

“They said you were spiky,” the doctor sighs to himself, the Germanic twang to his accent nearly erased by what you assume is years of living here. “That, my dear, is to ensure you become pregnant and have a healthy child from this DNA mixing. It's never been done before.”

“Will it kill me?” you're making him distracted as he's prepping some of the needles. “Having Bucky's child?”

“Nobody knows but at the point of labour, just know you become expendable if you go into distress. The child is more important. ”

“Figured,” you pick up the paperweight, leaping forward and cracking him over the skull.

It makes a sickening splintering noise and he staggers into the wall. You bring it down again and again over his head until he slumps onto the floor in a twitching mess.

You probably just killed him but you have no time to check as you slip out of the door and start running down the corridor. It's like a maze, rooms twisting off into dead ends and looping corridors where you end up back where you started.

You throw yourself into one particular office looking room after noticing soldiers starting to search. You back up away from the windows, only to have a hand come over your mouth.

“I don't think you're supposed to be here, sweetheart.”

You turn around to see a black mask with a white skull spray painted on it. Was this a Purge undercover operative?

“Don't take me back in that room,” you plead.

“Because they'll make sure you're knocked up? Yeah I heard. Winter Soldier got all up in you, huh? Must be a special kind of lay.”

He's got hold of your wrists, stopping you from pulling away. He's much stronger than you will ever be.

“I'm not. I just wanna go.”

“No, you know what? I'm gonna make sure you have that baby, I'm gonna raise it myself and then I'll make sure it kills Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers for what they did to me.”

“Who are you?”

“Someone they didn't kill in Lagos.”

“Rumlow!” your eyes widen, remembering archiving that report that led to the Sokovia Accords. “But you-”

“-Exploded? Gonna take more than that. I'm already burned. I'm fireproof,” he takes off the mask so you can see the intense scarring and the mottled white of the shiny skin. “Yeah, there we go. There's the revulsion. Come on. You're just the kind of revenge I need.”

And he manhandles you all the way back to the original room where someone's dragged the body of the doctor out. The paperweight is, not surprisingly, gone.

“Nice kill. Not bad for a civilian,” Rumlow muses as he throws you on the medical chair and straps your limbs down before grabbing some scissors. “Now hold still. I don't think you want me to cut this area accidentally.”

He starts at your waistband, cutting through and down towards the crotch area before ripping it apart into two halves. Thankfully he just walks back after that as the next doctor comes in, settling down on the corner of the desk.

“She's ready for ya,” Rumlow nods. “I'll be here in case she tries anything else.”

You had no way out as the doctor approached you with a large needle.

  
  


**

  
  


They knew they were coming.

Bucky and Steve were met with a large task force outside the NFFA building, snipers on the roof and one armed response vehicle. Perhaps they should've gotten a more stringent army though because when faced with a furious Steve and an angry Bucky, the body count piled higher and higher.

“STOP!” a voice over the tannoy reached them. “If you enter this building you will be designated category 'Traitor'.”

“Time to raise a little hell, Buck,” Steve kicks open the door, knocking a cowering office worker over who was trying to spy through the crack.

The basement. That's where they'd be keeping you. Never above ground. If he looked like he was heading straight there though, Steve would come too and if he suggested they split up, Steve would do the opposite of what Bucky asked. Reverse psychology would be better here.

“I'll check the top floor,” he makes to move for the stairs but Steve puts out an arm.

“No, no you won't. You'll check this floor and I'll check the lower level,” Steve orders.

He could work with that. There'd be a way down from the ground floor. It was just a race to see who'd find you first. Bucky didn't trust that Steve wouldn't just take you and leave Bucky to die in here.

“Alright,” he nods, before moving through the lobby.

  
  


**

  
  


It hurt. The needle in your abdomen wasn't the worst of it. The one that had been inserted into your cervix was much worse.

For killing the doctor, they'd made sure you had no anaesthetic for the process and you screamed your lungs out as Rumlow watched with a perverse interest.

Now you were left alone, still strapped down, still indecent with the tracks of dried tears on your face. You'd given up fighting.

The sounds of battle reached your ears and you didn't know whether to be hopeful or apprehensive. If everyone died in the building, you could be left here to starve, trapped in these restraints and no one would ever know you were here.

The door gave an almighty bang as something was thrown against it and soon it opened to reveal...

“Steve,” your heart didn't know whether to plummet or rise.

“Oh what have they done to you?” Steve closes the door behind him, rushing over. “My girl, what did they do?”

“They...they used....these needles,” you choke out. “In me.”

“We can get you pills to stop what they started, don't worry,” Steve leans over you, stroking your face. “My poor baby. The only seed you should be growing is mine.”

“Please get me out,” you beg, losing all dignity. “I'm sorry I ran. I'm sorry. Please. Steve, help me.”

“Not just yet. We've got time,” he kisses your cheek gently. “You want to get out, yeah? To come back with me to Stark Tower? There's just over four and a half hours left of Purge night. I'll just draw you like I was going to. That sound okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you nod feverishly.

“Alright, then I'm gonna take what I want from you because I've very sure Hydra will have cleaned you up by now. Nice and fresh for me.”

“No, no don't. Steve, just take me back first.”

“There's not going to be a better opportunity. If I take you back now, Buck might try to stop me again. I don't think so. I'm tired of waiting and I'm tired of chasing.”

He takes hold of your shirt and rips it to shreds, yanking the remnants of your jeans away from you until you're completely bare, strapped down and helpless with your knees bent apart by the chair.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, taking out his cock and giving it a cursory stroke.

You didn't think he'd be able to get hard again so quickly after the Carnival but now he was as stiff as he'd been at the tower.

“I'm not ready,” you plead. “I'm not-”

“-Not wet, I know,” he says soothingly before spitting onto the tips of his fingers and rubbing them down your folds, lubricating his path as he dipped into you.

“Steve!” you strain against the leather straps.

“Shhhh. Just enjoy it.”

“GET OFF ME!” you headbutt him and he reels back.

You see the darkness creep into his features as his hand shoots to your neck, squeezing hard. The pretense of gentleness was over.

“You just can't learn to be nice, can you?” he growls. “I know you have manners, I've seen you use them. So say thank you for what I'm about to give you. _Say it_.”

“You're hurting me, Steve,” you're crying now as he's lining himself up.

“And you just hurt me. Say you're sorry or I'm gonna fuck you like this, no preparation. It's not difficult.”

“I'm sorry,” you meet his furious gaze.

You have no way out, no prospects. The best you could hope for was that Steve wouldn't rip you apart by shoving into you.

“Say 'I'm sorry, _honey_ ',” he bucks forward a little, the pressure not enough to slip in but enough to catch your attention.

“I'm sorry, honey,” you use the most soporific voice you can, hating yourself as you say it. “I'm not wet enough still, can you help me?”

“Of course I can, baby,” his expression softens as his fingers move from your throat down to your clit, the gentle motions back. “Isn't this good, huh?”

You had to keep him on side. That was the only way you were going to get through this.

_Just lie back and imagine it's Bucky instead._

You don't know why that thought came into your head but it was helping. Imagining that intense look that he gave you as he made you cum....the dominance in his face that was effortless and commanding....

“Come on, sweetheart, I wanna hear that moan again,” Steve voice cut into your fantasy just as the wave crested and you spasmed in your restraints. “Oh god, it's like music. You're so ready for me now.”

“Wait-”

But it's too late. He's leaned forward and pushed his length into your still twitching pussy. You can't close your legs, you just have to take it as he lets out such a rich groan.

“So warm, so tight,” his lips brush over yours and you fight the urge to head butt him again.

He thrusts forward, bruising your already sore cervix and you whimper a little which he mistakes as pleasure. He keeps a bruising grip on your torso, ramming himself into you like a desperate man and you try to avoid anywhere but his gaze which is a display of utter reverence.

“Say you want me, sweetheart. Say you need me. Say my name,” he murmurs fervently.

“Steve,” you comply, hoping this will be over soon.

“Again.”

“Steve,” your voice hitches higher as he hits a spot that unfortunately feels good.

“Tell me you love me, that you’re mine, that I can keep you forever,” his pace gets even quicker and you’re horrified to note you’re so slick it’s not even a problem to fit him any more. “We’d be so good together. Think of the perfect little family we could be. The Rogers' house.”

“Honey, I....” you trail off under the pretense of getting lost in the sensation.

You didn’t want to say you loved this monster. You just wanted this to be over. You wanted Bucky to find you.

“I’m so close,” Steve starts kissing along your neck. “Want me to fill you up? Oh god, you just twitched. No no no, don’t be shy. You like the idea. That’s just fine, baby. Don’t be ashamed of your desires. You never need to be ashamed around me.”

He leaned back up, hands coming to rest around your thighs as his thrusts got sloppier and sloppier.

The door burst open and Steve got dragged out of you, his cock absurdly hard and throbbing as he was thrown into the desk, headfirst into the computer monitor. Bucky punched him so hard in the temple with his metal hand that the wood bowed and splintered under the impact, sending Steve crashing through it.

“Bucky!” you hate how much your voice waivers.

“Come on,” Bucky starts unshackling you quickly.

  
  


*

  
  


What the fuck had Steve done?

As he fumbled with the buckles, he spared a glance between your legs and winced at how raw you looked. He knew his former friend would try something if he found you helpless but he never expected Steve to be so brutal about it.

He’d failed you again.

Well....no more.

Even if he had to kill Steve now, he’d keep you safe.

He hoisted you out of the chair and you wobbled unsteadily before finding your feet again. You needed to move before Steve got back up because he wouldn’t stop until he’d finished. 

“Keep going, doll,” he encourages you but it’s too late.

Steve extracts himself from the remnants of the desk, absolutely raging as he leaps forward, shoving you to the side where you sprawl on the floor. In seconds Bucky finds a hand around his throat and his toes leaving the ground.

“You fucking asshole!” Steve roars, terrifying in his fury and Bucky is finding it hard to fight back.

The pressure on his neck was right over the artery and his vision was already tunnelling. He saw you behind Steve pick up something from the floor and race forward stabbing it into Steve’s thigh.

Steve bellows in pain, letting go of Bucky and rounding on you and now Bucky can see a pencil sticking out of Steve’s leg.

“You vicious little bitch,” Steve snarls. “After I was so nice to you, huh? You want it rough, I’ll give it to you fucking rough. I’ll break you until you’re my good little housewife. Cook, clean and suck my cock.”

Bucky takes the opportunity to pickpocket the shock collar remote from the back of Steve pants and draws the gun hidden in the concealed holster.

“Let her pass,” Bucky orders, his injured arm shaking with the weight of gripping the pistol.

“Really?” Steve says as he turns around, hands mockingly in the air.

You dart past, coming to Bucky’s side.

“Yeah, really.”

“You’re not gonna do it, Buck. Know why? Because you never had the balls to stand up to me before. You talk a big game but really you’re just as submissively needy as she is. You both need guidance and discipline.”

“I’m not the same Bucky,” he says simply before shooting Steve in the other leg.

It would slow him down, give you enough time to run. Ideally he wanted Steve to face consequences for this night, to be shunned by everyone he considered an ally but if he came after you again, he would put the bullet between his eyes.

He wasn’t going to be kowtowed any more.

“God-fuckin’-damn!” Steve pitches backwards, “I’ll fucking kill you, Buck! I swear I will!”

“You enjoy tormenting me too much for that. Let’s go doll. Four hours left just about.”

He leads you out, stepping over the body of Rumlow with his neck rotated all the way around before moving to the lab unit and grabbing you some scrubs. You put them on, evidently still in pain from your treatment by Hydra and Steve.

“What did they do?” Bucky asks, taking point as he grabs an assault rifle from a cabinet.

“Some hormone boosters, fertility stuff. I tried to get out. Killed a doctor but Rumlow brought me back.”

“You did really well,” Bucky says encouragingly. “I know it’s not easy to kill. I’m just sorry I wasn’t fast enough to stop Steve.”

“Bucky? Has Steve ever hurt you like this too? Like he just did to me?”

The question hangs in the air and he wonders if he should answer, if doing so would make him lesser in your eyes. He didn’t want you to pity him but you seemed to have guessed from his silence.

You slid your hands around his middle from behind, resting your head on his back, “I’m sorry. I should have stabbed him in the neck.”

“He’ll get his, doll.”

“He sure will. Take me where Bobby Sheridan does his show.”

“What? That’ll paint a target on our backs. Anyone can find us there.”

“We expose the NFFA as Hydra, we expose Steve and maybe someone can repeal this fucking Purge Act.”

“We could be walking into more danger.”

You let go of him, walking round to face him head on, “Steve's already done the worst he can to me. He took my dignity and now I’m gonna take _everything_ from him.”

He saw the fierceness in your eyes, the resolute anger and the shame and knew you were right. It was time to stop letting Steve have control.

“Alright. We’ll go,” he nods.

You leaned up, took his face in your hands and kissed him softly before touching your forehead to his. He was surprised but tried not to show it but the bubble of hope in his chest grew that something good might have come from this horror show of a night.

He couldn’t help himself when he drew you back into another kiss and felt a deep connection he’d never experienced before.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you murmur breaking away.

You were worried about him the whole time, even when unspeakable things were happening to you. Bucky knew in that moment he would die to protect you.

“Together,” he grabbed your hand squeezing it. “Let’s bring it all down.”

  
  
  



	7. Hour Eight and a Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make for the Bobby Sheridan show and the surrealist interview of your life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, abusive behaviour, grooming
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> \- TLP xx
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

As you moved out of the lab, you saw a trail of blood leading up the stairs.

“He's waiting for us, isn't he?” you point it out to Bucky.

“Steve won't let something like a shattered femur slow him down. There's a back entrance. Let's take that. I don't trust that he won't try to shoot me on sight now,” he drags you the opposite way.

You step over dead bodies, almost slip in blood pools and retch a few times at the destruction both super soldiers have wrought in their haste to get to you but you shove the distaste into a distant part of your brain. Now was not the time to get precious.

Bucky takes you to a fire escape, the kind of enclosed cage ladder before making sure he scouted first.

“It's safe, come up.”

You end up scooting quickly up the rungs, desperate to be out of the place and the second your head crests over the surface, you see Steve holding a gun to Bucky's head.

“See how good you are at taking orders, Buck,” Steve says, grimacing as he fought to stay steady on his feet. “Now, get up here sweetheart. You and I need to talk.”

“Leave him alone,” you find your voice as you step up onto the landing.

“No, no I don't think I will. You stabbed me, Bucky shot me. I'm really fucking _pissed_ right now. So here's what the state of play is. You're both gonna come back with me and I'm gonna finally goddamn finish what Buck rudely interrupted whilst he's forced to watch and then I'll make him mop up the mess. You both need to remember who's in charge here and if I have to break you both to do that, I will.”

He looked demented as he swayed, eyes wide, his breath coming in hard spurts and the occasional drip of blood from his thigh bouncing onto the floor.

“No,” you stand your ground.

“I don't think you understand, you vicious little bitch,” Steve hisses, pressing the barrel harder into Bucky's temple. “I'm done being nice. You had your chance to play this the right way and now? Now this is going to get ugly if you keep resisting. I already ruined Buck's arm. I could do the same to you. There's a spot in the spine that, if I shoot it right, means you'll lose your ability to walk. Then you can never run away again. You'll _always_ be mine.”

“No,” you say again, although your voice wavers slightly.

“What are you doing, doll?” Bucky pleads with you. “Just run. Do what we planned. You're strong enough and you can do it. Don't worry about me.”

“You're not going to hurt him,” you carry on. “Because if you do, that means you can't control him any more, that means you can't threaten him. That's all you have, fear. I'm not afraid. You've already had what you wanted from me.”

The laugh that comes from Steve makes your skin crawl. It's high pitched, uncontrollable and cracked.

“You think that's the worst I can do to you? How about I make sure you disappear? How about I take you to my private cabin, chain you to the wall and keep you there until you can give me a family? How about I chain Bucky to the opposite wall and he can watch every time I fuck you, every day you grow with my child? His precious little charge, the girl he's falling for. Oh you didn't think I noticed? I noticed you too. You'd rather play house with the damaged goods than the hero of the world.”

“You're no hero. You're nothing,” you spit. “You're a bully and a coward.”

“No, I'm your fucking _god_ ,” Steve continues, absolutely fanatical. “I own you, sweetheart and I've owned _him_ for years.”

“You son of a bitch,” Bucky's shaking, the ghost of the past gripping his panic and fuelling it. “I _knew_ you did something.”

“And keep guessing what it was,” Steve presses a quick peck to Bucky's cheek. “Your head's too scrambled to remember. Now, come with me.”

“Who the hell are you guys?!” a woman in a business suit stumbles out of the room. “Is that...oh my god! What the hell happened?!”

In the seconds Steve was distracted, Bucky shoves the gun upwards where it goes off, punching into the ceiling before digging his fingers into the bullet wound in Steve's leg. Steve screams as they fight for control of the gun before Bucky finally overpowers him.

He grabs for you, leading you out of the door before shooting blindly behind him, too shook up to make a straight shot. You burst out into the night, haring towards the parking lot where Bucky jacks a motorbike, hot wiring it quickly and pulling you onto it behind him.

You grip on for dear life as he speeds away, revving the engine to maximum until you were going so fast that your eyes were streaming. He only started slowing once you'd put a good distance in between you and the NFFA headquarters.

“Do you know where the radio studios are?” you holler over the noise of the engine.

“Yeah, Tony had us do some PR there once. I hated it,” Bucky calls over his shoulder. “Still sure you wanna do this?”

“Yeah I'm sure. Let's go.”

Thankfully most of the night was winding down. The clock over the grocery store nearby registered that there were three and three quarter hours of Purge night left. Most of the carnage was already done and it was just the aftermath of dead bodies, flaming cars and debris in the streets.

You came up towards the studios where two guards clad in Stetsons and leather vests with flag motifs checked you out.

“We're here to talk to Bobby Sheridan,” you get off the bike and move towards them. “We've got information on the NFFA. We just wanna talk.”

“Search her,” one says to the other and you're subjected to a thorough pat down, though he doesn't take any liberties. “Alright, she's clean. Let her through. Who's the big guy?”

“That's Bucky Barnes, he's my...uh...bodyguard,” you think quickly.

“Well shit, okay then. Brooklyn's own, go on in,” the other seems a bit starstruck and shakes Bucky's hand as you pass through.

You follow the signs up and up until you hit the studio where Bobby Sheridan is giving his Purge night livestream along with a couple of guests. Usually he gets one pro-Purger and one anti-Purger for colour.

“Appears we have some new guests,” he looks up with that charming smile and silky voice. “Come on in, sit down and let's talk.”

You sit on the other side of him as he shakes your hand and Bucky elects to stand behind you, eyes trained on the door.

“So who might you be, young lady?” Bobby asks.

“I work at Stark Industries in intelligence,” you start and you can tell Bobby thinks he's found the guest of the century. “I'm here to talk about who the NFFA _really_ are.”

“Pretty sure they're just senators, sweetie,” the pro Purger woman who you recognise as Senator Germaine speaks up. “You're not one of those conspiracy nuts, are you?”

“I'm not. I'm here to tell all of America that Hydra set up the NFFA. They played on our misery of the Snap and forced the Purge Act through to keep us docile and in fear.”

“I knew it!” the anti-Purger guy pipes up, although you don't recognise him.

“And what evidence do you have?” Bobby purrs into the microphone. “Such a big revelation, surely you have some kind of proof?”

“I do,” Bucky turns around, throwing something onto the desk and you see the senator recoil.

It was a piece of skin cut away from the Marie Antoinette woman, the one with the Hydra tattoo.

“Mr Barnes, the Winter Soldier, the White Wolf everybody,” Bobby fills in for the crowd. “He's just presented a Hydra tattoo taken from somebody, I presume quite recently given the blood?”

“Yeah.”

“That proves nothing,” the senator sneers. “Could just be some edgy kid. It's got about as much clout as a swastika and there will always be the disenfranchised who flock to such hateful symbols.”

“Listen here,” Bucky grips the table, leaning over you so you're caged between his arms as he splinters the wood. “I just saved this woman from a Hydra experimental facility that was underneath the NFFA headquarters. I killed everyone in there that I could so if you'd like to take a look for yourself, I'm happy to let you walk outta here and go check.”

She remains quiet.

“Woah, mighty big accusation here,” Bobby whistles. “So what were they doing to you in that facility?”

“Trying to force me to breed supersoldiers,” you say flatly.

“If there's even a grain of truth in this,” the anti-Purger says. “We need to repeal the Purge act now. This has been built on lies and panic.”

“Hydra is not in the senate, John,” Germaine answers acidly. “I'm certainly not part of them and I support the act.”

“Easy to say when you're shut up in here,” you snarl at her. “How about you go out there and try to survive it. You might change your tune pretty fucking quickly.”

“Hey hey, language,” Bobby chuckles lightly. “Things are hotting up in the studio here. So tell me why a Stark employee and an Avenger are out on Purge night anyway. Trying to uncover a conspiracy all along?”

“No, I ran from Steve Rogers who was trying to rape me.”

You could've heard a pin drop in the studio. Nobody answered for a while until Bobby cleared his throat.

“I'm sorry, did you just say _Captain America_ tried to exercise his right to purge?”

“Yeah he did. I got her away from him,” Bucky adds.

“But there's nothing wrong with that, right Bobby? Exercising my right?” a voice comes from behind you.

Steve is at the doorway, waving his phone which displays footage of you coming into the building. You should've known he would've used the NFFA tech to find you again. Stupid.

“And in a surprising twist, Steve Rogers himself has just walked in. Can I say, it's an honour sir?” Bobby salutes and you hear the Stars and Stripes play briefly in the background.

“You may and what a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr Sheridan,” Steve reached over to shake his hand. “I thought I'd come and clear some things up.”

“Please, take a chair, Mr Rogers.”

Steve sits directly to the side of you, his leg hastily bandaged and his pupils dilated like he was on heavy medication. You, in turn, subconsciously leant away, Bucky's hand on your shoulder. Senator Germaine just girlishly giggled, obviously trying to catch Steve's attention.

“So, bold claim by the young lady of your intentions, Captain,” Bobby seems absolutely delighted with how the evening was going. “Any truth in it?”

“Yeah, actually. She's right.”

Again, everyone falls into stunned silence. Even you don't know what the hell he's playing at by admitting it.

“Sorry, you mean you participated in this year's Purge?” the anti-Purger, John, seems revolted.

“I did. I've never done it before but it's my right as an American citizen and I believe I'm owed one night off a year to work off the steam. Wouldn't you agree, senator?”

“After all the good you've done for the world, who can begrudge you one night, huh?” Germaine nods sycophantically.

“But you're supposed to be a hero. You're supposed to set the moral standard. How can anyone look up to you if you do this,” you cut in. “You took my dignity and you've hunted me for several hours. You've forced me to do things that'll haunt me forever. You've made me a worse person for your own pleasure.”

“Have I?” Steve says innocently, leaning back in the chair. “Or was that inclination always there? Maybe you always had the instinct to kill? Maybe you were an exhibitionist?”

“I was not,” you growl. “I was an ordinary girl who just wanted a quiet life and you took that from me.”

“John, what do you think?” Bobby turns to his other side.

“I think it's absolutely disgusting that the very symbol of American freedom is taking that freedom from others,” John stands his ground, not intimated at all that a bonafide celebrity was sat meters away. “This is not the American way.”

“No, the American way is the right to bear arms, huh?” Steve says before raising a pistol and shooting John in the head where he topples out of sight. “Everyone's a critic these days.”

“Fuck!” you yell in surprise as Bucky's grip is almost vice like on your shoulder.

You're pretty sure now that you're left in a room with all pro-Purgers. This had become a disaster.

“Well that was Captain America exercising his constitutional rights,” Bobby doesn't seem phased at all. “Let's take some outside calls from you lovely folks out there. Caller One, take it away.”

“Yeah, hello? Bobby?” a male voice, fairly young. “I think it's fucking awesome that Captain America purges. The guy is an icon. We love you Cap, wooooo!”

The more calls come in, the more it becomes apparent that you were alone here. Steve was getting smugger and smugger in the chair as everyone took his side. Some callers even suggested he rape you in the studio because you were, and quote, 'a fucking frigid bitch' for running away. Some even said they would gladly let Steve do whatever he wanted to them and would kill for the chance to get his attention.

There was no way you were going to break the public perception of Steve being America's own golden boy.

You needed to leave and quickly. You were in more danger with every passing second.

“Well I think we'll concede this argument,” you stand up. “We'll be going now.”

“Where's the rush?” Steve is casually twirling the gun by the trigger guard. “Still two and a half hours left, sweetheart.”

“Bucky,” you tug on his arm. “Time to go. Thank you for your time, Mr Sheridan.”

“Well it's been delightful to have you here. What an interesting Purge night this turned out to be,” Bobby grins, tipping a salute to you.

“Oh they're not leaving,” Steve's eyes never leave your face. “I don't know where you think you can run to. I've proven that I'll always find you.”

“And I've proven that I'll always try and stop you,” Bucky says, slowly backing up with you before he hits the lights and the sprinkler system, water exploding from the ceiling.

You hear gunshots, see two dazzling flashes but don't have the time to process as you're yanked out and down the stairs.

“Are you hurt?” you say in between panting breaths.

“No, missed me,” Bucky says. “Hit my other arm.”

When you get out onto the street, there's two groups of people stood with a gap in the middle. Some are wearing the colours of the resistance and some are clearly pro-Purgers.

“Get behind us!” a woman with a rifle says from the resistance side. “Keep them safe! Keep them from Steve Rogers!”

You're bundled away by resistance fighters as the rest clash with the pro-Purgers in one messy street brawl. You're put in the back of a van with Bucky as it speeds away, leaving nothing but chaos behind as the sounds of fighting die away.

“The NFFA is Hydra right?” a man with a scar running down the length of his face asks. “That's what you said?”

“Yeah it is,” you nod.

“You were right. We heard the Bobby Sheridan show and raided the NFFA compound. We got all evidence we could away before the pro-Purgers could find it. We're going to keep you away from Rogers too.”

“Why?”

“Because you put your life on the line to speak out just now. Steve Rogers is everything wrong with this fucking hellhole of a country and we're going to make an example of him but we need you and Mr Barnes alive for that.”

“Where are we going?” Bucky asks, obviously not as trusting as you are.

“Resistance HQ,” the man's lip curls up, which doesn't make for a pretty sight. “We only have to keep you safe for a few more hours. We have someone on the inside hacking into Stark tech to retrieve CCTV footage of Steve trying to rape you. We also have the Hydra footage too. We're going to get The Purge eradicated forever.”

“Thank god,” you sink back into the seat, head lolling against Bucky's shoulder next to you. “It's nearly over.”

“Be on your guard, doll,” Bucky says grimly. “A lot can go wrong in the next couple of hours. Don't get too comfy. Whenever we've gotten complacent, everything's gone wrong.”

“I won't. Trust me, I won't. I know better than to think we're truly safe.”

You link your hand with his metal one, wondering what the hell was going to happen next but for now, it seemed, you finally had some allies.


	8. Hour Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet the resistance and the one person who can stop the Purge forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst, Non Con, Past Abuse
> 
> Happy reading!  
> \- TLP xx
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

“We're getting close,” the scarred man lets you know.

“Are you sure Steve can't track us here? He's been relentless all night,” you ask.

“Our inside man in Stark Tower is scrambling the live feeds of the CCTV citywide,” he nods to you. “They can only do it for the next ten minutes but it's enough to get us inside and undetected. Steve will only have a general area to work from.”

“Well that's something,” you blow air out hard.

The van stops and the doors are opened by people who help you out. It seems to be a factory floor that had been converted because there were monitors everywhere showing the lunacy outside.

On one wall were all the major advocates of the Purge and you see, with some surprise, that Senator Germaine was crossed off.

“What happened to her?” you point.

“We got her after Steve left the studio. Bobby Sheridan was real surprised to see us. We've got him locked up and reporting pro-repeal propaganda now. Slimy fuck that he is. Every Purge night since the act we've targeted those officials who aren't under Purge protection and try to eliminate them. The less support it has, the more likely we can get Jean Munroe into office. That's the anti-Purge senator. She had her whole family massacred in the first Purge. Poor girl.”

He points to a mousy looking woman with sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, body armour over the top of it.

“That's her.”

“I need to speak to her.”

“She's already waiting.”

You take Bucky's hand for reassurance and he grips it tight as you walk over to Jean who's studying the monitors and writing notes.

“Trust this?” you ask Bucky.

“Seems okay so far but our luck isn't exactly good tonight,” he murmurs back. “I've counted five exits so far if it goes wrong. I'm right next to you.”

You smile at him and his expression softens a lot before he squeezes your hand gently.

“Miss Munroe?” you say quietly as she turns around, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“Yes, I've been expecting you both,” she shakes your hand and Bucky's. “What you did, very brave. Going against Steve Rogers was damn near suicidal. We've been monitoring what he's doing the entire night and his kill count is...well it's hard to remember he's supposed to be a good guy, let's say that. Your actions have meant the NFFA is exposed and open and we're ready to let that wound fester. We have all the intel we need to bring the organisation down. As for Captain America, we got sent this.”

She pushes a remote and you see yourself being held down on your desk, completely naked and crying as Steve attempts to get inside you. You only become aware that you're crushing Bucky's hand when he gives you a small nudge. Then the incident in the Hydra facility flashes up.

“Plus we have all the footage from his murder spree to get to you,” Jean folds her arms before turning back around. “I can't imagine how you're feeling right now. That was difficult for me to watch, let alone for you to live through. I promise you, we'll destroy Steve Rogers. There's no room for someone like him in our America.”

“Spread that as far as you can,” you say determinedly. “I don't even care that people will see me like that. Everyone needs to know what a monster he is.”

“Where did you get the footage? They said someone in Stark Tower?” Bucky questions.

“We got sent it by a burner email,” she pulls up the screen.

There, on the email address, you take an intake of breath.

  
  


**From: forthoseabouttoresistwesaluteyou@gmail.com**

**Subject: Take Captain Moralitypants down.**

_Attached: File – StarkTowerIntelligenceOffice2.avi_

  
  


“That's Tony!” you blurt out.

“Stark?” Bucky stares at the email. “How do you know?”

“It's an AC/DC song, well kinda. It's either Tony or Pepper,” you feel a bubble of hope in your chest.

“Then I guess not every Avenger is on Steve's side. That's good,” Jean smiles. “We can use that. It came in about five hours ago.”

“If Stark's on our side, maybe we can get back to the Tower,” Bucky thinks out loud. “Every moment we stay here, there's a risk Steve will find the place and destroy all the evidence. He'll want the Purge to continue. If Tony can lock down the Tower....”

“We can wait out the rest of the night,” you finish for him. “And that leaves you clear to carry on.”

“I appreciate the sentiment but it's not safe for you out there,” Jean puts her clipboard down. “I've seen what you've gone through and no person should have to endure that. We're well protected here.”

“Ma'am?” Bucky puts a protective arm around your waist. “Steve won't stop until he gets what he wants. He's obsessed and single minded. He _will_ discover this place if we stay and he _will_ wipe every bit of digital evidence and he _will_ kill you to stop a repeal. As much as we'd like to take a break, I need to protect both her and everything you're working for.”

Jean looks hesistant, as if she wants to argue, “I can't make you stay but I'd hoped you'd feel safe here.”

“It's not a question of our safety,” you look her dead in the eye. “It's a question of yours. You're the most important woman in New York right now. Bucky's right, we can't stay here. It doesn't matter if we don't make it now. You've got all the evidence there and the Bobby Sheridan audio recordings.”

She flings her arms around your neck, hugging you tightly before moving away, “Stay alive, stay safe. I'll make sure he can never hurt you again, I promise.”

“Just win the damn election next year,” Bucky nods.

For a moment you see something of your mother in the way Jean looks at you and the intense wrench of worry intensifies in your stomach. If you had to sacrifice yourself, to fall to Steve it didn't matter any more. Your perspective had widened and the only thing that was necessary was for Jean to make it to the next election.

“Let's go,” you look at Bucky before addressing Jean. “Send an email back to that address and say 'the pack is coming together'.”

“Got it. We can buy you another few minutes on the cameras to get away from this place but then you're on your own,” Jean motions to the tech guys who are typing away furiously. “Sure you wanna do this?”

“We're sure,” you nod.

“Then good luck,” she claps you both on the shoulders. “God speed.”

She takes you to a side entrance where a van is waiting again. She throws Bucky the keys and stands in the doorway.

“I hope the next time I see you will be at a rally,” she waves you off.

“Come on, doll. We need to get moving,” Bucky motions for you to get in.

On the road once more, the silence is becoming oppressive. After so much chatter, you need something to distract you from the lingering thoughts of Steve as he moved roughly in you, that maniacal expression as he professed what he wanted from you.

“How long has Steve been this way?” you ask quietly.

Bucky's hand slipped on the gearstick for a moment but he recovered himself, staring grimly ahead. You could feel the air thicken with tension.

“You don't have to answer,” you quickly correct yourself. “I just...I'm sorry I just need some noise.”

  
  


**

  
  


Bucky didn't want to admit that he'd been regaining more and more of the memories of his early life.

It seemed that once he'd opened the floodgates, he couldn't stop all of the hidden things from spilling over. They were coming faster and faster into his brain.

He felt conflicted about telling you these experiences but knew you hadn't rejected him earlier when you'd guessed Steve had done terrible things to him too. He also knew the need to think about something else, even if it might hurt him in the process. He could at least ease your pain through it though.

“The first I remember feeling that something was wrong with him was when we were fourteen,” he starts in a shaky voice. “We had to share a bed when I slept over at his house because they didn't have enough room. I woke up that night with his hand on my groin and I didn't know what was going on. He said he'd been dreaming and it was a mistake. I trusted him then so I just went back to dozing but...I could feel him getting himself off next to me after that. I kept quiet. It was strange but I didn't think anything of it. Boys sometimes get confused, right?”

“You think that was the start of it?” you asked

“Once he knew I was onto him, I think...I think he was really forward with the dames I tried to set him up with. They never said as much but they didn't seem right after their evenings with him. I can't say for sure what he did though.”

“Fuck. So he's always been like this?”

“He hid it well,” Bucky replies darkly. “Since he was always so up for fighting for honour, it was glossed over. People just thought he was a plucky kid, you know?”

“Sorry that happened to you.”

“That wasn't the worst thing he did,” Bucky blurts out.

It was becoming cathartic to share this and he _needed_ to share this. He'd bottled it away for too long and you'd understand. Of course you would.

“You don't need to-”

“It was after I was rescued from a Hydra facility,” he barrels on, grip tightening on the wheel. “Back at base, we were getting drunk and celebrating. Lots of soldiers brought home, lots of Hydra dead. Steve and I were sharing a private room, perks of him being Captain America. We talked and I drank more and...well you know what the serum does to us now. He couldn't get drunk, no matter how much he knocked back. I was on the bed because my head was swimming and he was just over me. I think he thought I was really outta it but I was still awake. Kept saying he could do what he wanted to me and I wouldn't remember. I remember his hand on my leg, that look he was giving you earlier....”

He trails off into silence.

“ _Steve, no,” he said, shuffling away. “What are you...”_

“ _Just relax. It's fine,” Steve said softly, crawling over him and pouring more of the bottle down Bucky's throat until he had to choose whether to drown in it or swallow it. “Just have some more. It's okay.”_

“ _I don't want more,” Bucky protests but he's too weak to fend him off._

_The next thing he knew, lips were being pressed to his and he didn't know what to do. There was a hand massaging his cock through his trousers and it was responding on cue, getting harder._

“ _You're really important to me, Buck,” Steve whispers. “Let me make you feel good.”_

“ _Steve, Steve I don't-”_

“ _Shhhh,” Steve presses a hand over his mouth. “I know what you need.”_

_His pants were being undone, the hand was now gripping around his erect length and slowly pumping up and down. He tried to sit up but he was nearly sick as his vision blurred out and his head felt like it was going to burst._

“ _Be a good boy for me,” Steve leans over, kissing him and Bucky can't even put up a fight any more._

_He was being pinned down with just one of Steve's hands on his chest that made its way to his throat, keeping him on the bed and under control._

_The urge was building despite the situation, the urge to cum but he didn't want to. He wanted this to stop._

“ _No,” he gargled out around the restricting fingers. “No.”_

“ _You say no but your body is saying yes to me,” Steve laughs coldly. “Look at you. I can see you're building up. Look how much control I can have over you. You think you're straight, Buck? That you only like girls? No, you're mine. You'll always be mine. Look at what I can make you do.”_

_Steve's mouth is around his cock now, the warm sensation jarring against the cold sweat of his body. Steve's tongue is doing things that no girl has ever done to him before and he's torn between chasing his release and trying to scream at Steve to get away._

_He's helpless as the sensation finally crests and he spills his load into his best friend's mouth. Shame hits him like a brick. This was wrong. This was so so wrong._

“ _I knew you liked it,” comes the soft words and more alcohol is forced into his mouth._

_He was close to passing out now. He could see Steve,hazy and unfocused take a drink for himself before placing a kiss on Bucky's head letting his mouth move further down Bucky's neck._

_Why the fuck was he getting hard again? He didn't want this. Surely it was just a natural response?_

“ _Help!” he tries to shout but his cries are muffled by Steve's insistent hand over his mouth._

“ _Hey, I thought we were having fun, huh?” his tone has gone a little more aggressive now. “Besides, how is it gonna look if someone bursts in here and sees you all hard like this? They're gonna think you wanted it, that you're queer. Military doesn't take kindly to that, does it? They'll shoot you, Buck and you don't want that. This can just be our secret. No one needs to know you liked this.”_

“ _I didn't.”_

“ _Liar,” Steve manhandles him, flipping him over and shoving his pants completely off._

“ _Steve, Steve what are you doing? Steve please. Please stop.”_

_There's the sound of spitting and something wet running down the crack of his ass. He tries to get up but Steve just pins him down, moving his legs apart._

“ _You can't just take, pal. You gotta give something too,” Steve tuts._

_He feels something hard pressing against his cheeks and struggles harder. It was no use though. Steve was too strong now._

“ _Don't,” Bucky chokes out, the pain starting as Steve pushes forward, invading him._

“ _Shhhh, it'll only hurt for a little bit and then you'll get into it.”_

“ _HEL-!”_

“ _Shut up,” Steve hisses, fully thrusting forward, burying himself in Bucky's ass._

_The stinging was unreal and he started sobbing in his drunken state._

“ _Don't cry, look at you, my good boy taking all of me the first time. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”_

“ _Steve...”_

“ _Shit, say my name like that again,” he starts pumping in and out._

_Bucky keeps quiet, focusing on the burning sensation that was slowly dissipating and making way for a feeling that he didn't intend on. It was starting to become pleasurable, his cock was twitching, yearning to be touched._

“ _There we go,” Steve whispers in his ear, grabbing the short hair on his head and making his back arch, making Bucky get on his knees._

_At this angle Steve's hand snaked around Bucky's hips, playing with his cock as he pounded into him._

“ _I'm gonna make you mine, Buck. You're never gonna want anyone else again. I own you, understand? I want you to say it. Who do you belong to? Who?”_

_He didn't answer but that only meant that Steve stopped his movements and Bucky was getting too close again to think straight. He just wanted the release, for this to be over._

“ _You, Steve.”_

“ _Call me your Captain,” he groaned._

“ _You....Captain.”_

“ _Gooooood boooooy,” Steve grunts, rutting harder._

_Shit, why did this have to feel good? Bucky felt that deep ache in his balls that signalled he was nearly there and with a half cry, half sob, he came all over the sheets. Now he just had to wait until Steve was done with him._

_With a deep guttural growl, Steve came deep inside him before pulling out and letting Bucky finally collapse on the bed._

“ _You did so well,” Steve kisses the back of his head. “Now remember, our little secret. Good night, Buck.”_

_And he finally left him alone, ruined and crying in the bed like a scared little child. Manly Bucky who'd gotten in first time into the army, macho Bucky who out fought all the street gangs, womaniser Bucky who had several dames on the go at once. Now he was just a shadow of that man thanks to the person he trusted the most._

_His brother not by blood._

“Shit,” you look horrified. “I'm so sorry.”

He was expecting to see pity in your face but there was only incredible anger.

“I'm going to fucking kill him,” you snarl out of the window. “How dare he think he can do that to people he purports to care about. I'll fucking cut his throat open.”

“I'll hold him down then,” Bucky adds with a wry smile.

It felt freeing to have told someone and he was humbled you felt so strongly about protecting him. You were the first woman he'd ever felt comfortable around and you still didn't judge him.

“Is that why you were never intimate with anyone after that?”you ask.

“Probably on some level,” Bucky sees Stark Tower growing closer and closer. “I think I repressed it so much, I killed my own desire for many years, even when I wasn't me any more. But with you....”

Could he really say it? It sounded so awful given the circumstances to make such a declaration.

“Yeah?” you press.

“I don't know. It's been a really long time since I connected with anyone, since I felt....safe with anyone. I told you you were an unusual gal and I meant it. Nobody's ever stood up for me before and still made me feel...I don't know....desirable. I'm sorry, that's not the right thing to say.”

“I think we both felt it at the Carnival,” you murmur quietly. “When we were looking only at each other.”

“That's the first time I've felt in control of myself since...since that day. I felt so guilty about how that came around though-”

“-Don't. I already told you I wasn't distressed,” you cut him off. “Truthfully? When Steve was taking advantage....I tried to imagine it was you, to help me through it.”

He almost took his eyes off the road he was that shocked, “You did?”

“Is that fucked up?”

“No, doll, it's not. I think it just means instead of breaking us, Steve has brought us together. God that sounded less corny in my head.”

You laugh and it's the most beautiful sound in the world to him. He couldn't wait for this night to be over so he could get to know you properly.

“We're here,” you point out, ending the conversation just as he was starting to feel normal again.

  
**  
  
  


The entrance to Stark Tower was shuttered off as they got out of the van, after ditching it in a deadzone alleyway, and walking up. Just as they got to it, the metal began moving upwards and upwards until it slowly revealed, not just Tony and Pepper, but every single Avenger currently there.

They ushered you in quickly, the shutters moving down just as quickly and the doors barricading themselves behind you.

“Uh,” Tony began. “So Pepper told me to grow a pair so I did. I said I couldn't get involved with Purge rights but, you know what? Enough is enough.”

“And the NFFA being Hydra?” Sam looks grim as he addresses you. “It's time to end this night.”

“We stand by you,” Clint joins in, Bruce nodding nervously next to him.

“You may think of Asgardians as brutes, my lady,” Thor approaches you. “But had I known Steve had tried what he did, I would've stopped him. We only became aware quite recently and I am loathe that I could not find him and wring his neck.”

“Boy lost his damn mind,” Sam looks haunted. “I never knew he had that in him.”

“Thank you, everyone,” you nod. “There's not long left and we can end this once and for all.”

“One and a half hours by my count,” Tony looks at his watch before his face falls. “Well shit.”

“What is it?” Bucky asks immediately.

Tony projects an image, blowing it up so everyone can see Steve outside the Tower with an army of Purgers in American flag gear. They were waiting behind him, weapons ready like he was their general.

“Is he gonna start a siege?” Bruce stammers. “Holy shit, he can't be serious?!”

“Alright, everyone get battle ready,” Tony warns. “My tech is great but it can't hold off a full scale invasion forever. Nobody let Steve Rogers near this girl, understand?”

“Got it,” everyone chorused.

“Get upstairs, get in the panic room. Penthouse, near the artwork of the tennis girl with no underwear,” Tony tells you. “Password is 'I am Iron Man'.”

“Come on, doll. I'm not leaving your side,” Bucky pulls you to the elevator.

Once you're in, you start having a mini panic attack. Bucky has to hold you close and rub your back until you're able to gain control again.

“Just breathe,” he says calmly. “Just breathe.”

“I can't believe he's still this persistent,” you shake your head. “He brought an army. He's going to try and kill people he considered friends.”

“And they're gonna give him a good run. Faced with everyone down there, it'll be a miracle if he makes it past alive.”

Once the elevator hits the penthouse, you quickly find the panic room, FRIDAY letting you in before you're locked inside. Now all you can do is wait in the plush bedroom, hoping it would be over soon.

You could hear the sounds of fighting already beginning to start.


	9. Hour Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark Tower is under siege

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, Non Con
> 
> Welcome to the penultimate chapter guys!  
> Happy reading  
> \- TLP xx
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

You paced rapidly, feeling more nervous as the minutes ticked by.

For his part, Bucky didn't try to stop you. He was working his own anxious energy into checking his rifle over and over, obsessively making sure it was going to be operational when the time came.

“What do you think is happening?” you chew on your nails as you make the about turn for the five hundredth time.

“I don't know,” he says tersely but you don't blame him for snapping.

This is as stressful a situation as you could possibly be in. You'd never lived through a siege before.

“Sorry,” Bucky sighs, pushing his hair back. “Honestly, it sounds like they're in the lower levels.”

“They got through the door?” you stop dead.

“I want you to be prepared, doll. I'm not gonna bullshit you.”

“What do we do if he gets in here? What's the plan?”

“The plan is I shoot him between the eyes.”

“Not if I get him first,” you mutter.

Bucky stands up, leaving his rifle on the bed as he grabs your shoulders, “If it gets to the point where I go down, I don't want you to be afraid to do what you have to do. I have no idea whether he'll stop once the sirens go off but if he doesn't, get out. Get out of the damn country and hide if you can.”

“Don't say that,” you screw your face up, hands covering over your eyes. “Don't. I don't wanna think about that until it's right in front of me. I'd rather be stupidly optimistic. What's the best case scenario here?”

“That the rest of the Avengers can fend him off? That he never gets in here before the sirens go? That, once we're through this night, I can take you on a date?”

“You wanna take me on a date?” you blink. “Like an actual one?”

“Dinner and a movie,” Bucky looks down shyly. “Not very modern but I'm not a Tinder swipe and fuck kind of guy. I like the way things used to be in my time. It felt proper, felt like I could get to know a dame...even though I was never very good to any of them. I was young and a cad then, you see. Steve was right. I wasn't a particularly nice man.”

“And what are you now?”

“Trying to be better,” he meets your gaze.

“I don't think you're the same person you used to be but I like who you are now,” you sit down on the bed next to him. “I know we never talked much before...all of this but you were always respectful.”

“And you were always smiling, even when I was scowling.”

He leans forward and kisses you softly.

“Bucky-” you start but he shushes you gently, holding you to him and rocking lightly.

“It's alright, doll. I'm scared too.”

There was a loud bang at the door that made you swear loudly and a roar from the other side of the wall. The fight had already gotten to the penthouse.

“Was that the Hulk?” you whisper.

“Sounds like it,” Bucky goes to the bed and grabs the gun, cocking the rifle and slotting the butt of it against his shoulder. “If Steve has already got this far up then it can only be him and Thor left.”

“Can he really take out Thor?”

“If he's smart enough. Steve is very good at strategy though. Don't underestimate him.”

“I won't. Shit. Okay, let's get ready.”

“Remember what I said, doll. If it goes bad, just run and leave me. Promise me that.”

“I-”

“Promise!”

“I promise,” you get your pistol.

Another loud bang and the entire door shudders, buckling as someone is thrown into it with such force that you can see chinks of light through the joins. The beam keeps being interrupted as people flash past outside.

Your grip on the gun gets tighter and tighter, your trigger finger splayed over the guard but twitching. A quick glance at the clock in the room told you there was fifteen minutes of Purge Night left but you couldn't bank on Steve stopping after time was up.

With a thunderous crash, the door bends even further and you get a windowed view out into the master bedroom. You see something green flash by, a deafening bellow and then....

Silence.

You stared out of the crack, desperately trying to see what was going on until an eye appeared at the entrance, staring in.

“You can't hide from me. I'll always find you,” Steve says softly before disappearing, narrowly avoiding Bucky's shot.

One final bang and the panic room door finally gives way as the Hulk spills into the entranceway morphing back to Banner who lay there in a pathetic pile. Framed in the destruction stood Steve, a small force of Purgers behind him.

“Remove the doctor from this place,” Steve tells his army who comply hastily, flashing you plastic smiles behind grotesque masks. “I've got business to do.”

Bucky and you simultaneously raise your guns and fire but the sycophantic Purgers just keep throwing themselves in front of Steve, taking the hits. The loyalty he inspired in them was terrifying and you didn't know whether to keep shooting or hold off.

Eventually you heard that fateful click and knew you'd run out of options. Steve was still alive and surrounded by piles of dying disciples as he magnanimously walked over their bodies to get closer to you. Even Bucky's magazine was empty now.

“Ten minutes left,” Steve's eyes shroud with darkness.

“How did you get past the Avengers?” you try to distract him, anything to waste minutes. “You're not a god.”

“No, but I had a very helpful chemist,” Steve gestures to the body bearing a Richard Nixon mask. “And he gave me a lot of sedatives to use. The Hulk...well...he just had a very bad drug trip that meant he did most of the work for me on this door....but I digress. We have unfinished business, sweetheart.”

Bucky protectively puts you behind him, stepping backwards and further into the panic room.

“Not gonna work any more, Buck,” Steve advances, shoulders squared. “Stand down or I'll _make_ you stand down.”

“No,” Bucky says fiercely.

“Look, how about this?” he sighs, hand on his hip. “Let me take what I want and I'll allow you to see her, continue this trauma syndrome relationship thing you have going on as long as I can use her whenever I want her.”

“Do you even hear yourself?!”

“I'm being more than fair. I could kill you immediately for thinking you have the right to my girl.”

“Fuck you. I'm done with your bullshit,” Bucky spits, rage descending on his features. “I'm not letting you hurt her like you hurt me.”

“Are we still on about that?” Steve laughs. “You _enjoyed_ that, if you can remember in that mess you call a brain.”

“I didn't enjoy it. I endured it.”

“Sure Buck. Keep telling yourself that. I know how hard you came when I was balls deep.”

“You're a monster,” you can't stand it any longer. “You ruined his life, you sick fuck! Why can't you see that?!”

“Ruined it? I was taking care of him. He was my best boy and I knew he needed release.”

“He needed a friend,” you step forward and Bucky turns around to push you back.

In that moment, Steve sprang upon him, pummelling him with his fists so hard that blood was already flying from the second blow. Bucky barely had time to put his hands up to defend himself as Steve pounded punch after punch into his face as they both hit the ground.

“STOP IT!” you try to tug Steve off but he just backhands you and you go skidding into the wall with the force.

You scramble back to your feet, hearing the sickening crunch of bone and see Bucky's weak attempts to fend off Steve's assault. It was too late though, you could see that. The surprise had given Steve the advantage.

You wrench the covers off the pillowcase, twisting them so them form a rope before running over and throwing it over Steve's head, pulling back hard and strangling him. He rears up and your feet end up leaving the floor but you plant them on Steve's back, straining with all your might to garotte him.

“Bucky, run!” you yell but he's too dazed on the floor, his face covered in blood and spit as he tries to breathe.

With a deft toss, you go flying onto the bed, your head bouncing off the headboard, making your vision tunnel for a moment.

“Five minutes left,” Steve's undoing his fly and grabbing your ankle to pull you down the mattress. “No foreplay this time, sweetheart.”

His hand curls around your throat, pinning you in place as he yanks the scrubs down and off your feet as you kick wildly, trying to hurt him but the lack of air was making you weak.

“So much fire and look where it got you,” Steve tuts like a disapproving father. “I'm still gonna get what I want. I'm still gonna win.”

He plunged his cock into you with such force that you cry out, scratching at his fingers to try and get loose. You were rapidly losing consciousness, his grip was too tight.

“Steve,” you gasp out. “Please...can't....breathe....stop.”

But he was too far gone in his bliss to care as he chased his orgasm with little care for you, little regard other than that he was on a deadline. Were you going to die here with mere seconds to go?

Bucky was lying on the floor still and he hadn't moved.

“Don't look at him,” Steve snarls, dragging your face back so you can look in his eyes. “Look at _me_. Look at your god and tell me I'm not benevolent.”

He lets go of your neck and the rush of oxygen back into your lungs is painful. You cough hard, accidentally clenching around him and he groans loudly.

“Fuck this is what I dreamed of,” he pins your wrists down. “How many times did I get myself off to the image of you, huh?”

“Steve, please stop,” you beg, your voice hoarse and broken.

“I'm sorry this isn't good for you,” he kisses your forehead, rutting hard against you. “I really am, I wanted to take my time and make it a good night, one you could remember proudly but I only have minutes left, baby. I gotta take what I need. I'll help you finish another time.”

At the mention of him coming near you ever again post-Purge night, something snaps within you. You desperately writhe, kick, spit and latch your teeth into his shoulder, trying to tear flesh. Anything to get him to stop.

“Such a bad fucking girl,” Steve growls, dislodging your mouth and gripping your jaw, pushing your head back into the mattress. “I wish I had time to explore that violent streak. For now? Stop fighting and just accept it.”

“Never,” you hiss. “Just because you're fucking me right now doesn't mean you own me and you _never_ _will_.”

“Oh I will,” his pace gets even more brutal and it's blurring the lines of pleasure and pain. “Both you and Buck will fall into line and we'll be happy together. Wouldn't you like that? Both of us? Two men taking care of you? I don't think Buck's capable of making you happy on his own.”

“FUCK YOU!” you scream defiantly. “YOU'LL NEVER BE HIM,YOU FUCKING EVIL PIECE OF SHIT!”

The hands come back around your throat as anger flares in Steve's eyes. This time he's deliberately squeezing and maybe he intends to kill you out of jealousy now.

[The sirens.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pLuNy8qfK9Q)

The sirens are starting.

Twelve blasts and Purge night was over.

The urgency and fear finally broke over Steve as he chased his release whilst you floundered, feeling the capillaries burst in your face as the life was choked out of you. The pressure was building in your head.

Five blasts left now.

“Fuck! FUCK!” Steve's psyching himself out.

You abandon trying to prise his immovable fingers and jam your own deep into his eye where he howls but doesn't stop, even when you feel something pop and fluid run down your hand.

Two blasts left.

“YOU FUCKING WHORE!” Steve bellows, pressing so tightly that spots are dancing in your vision.

You're not gonna make it.

One blast.

On the final note, Steve makes a noise like a rabid wolf and withdraws, his hands leaving you and his cock slipping out, just as the last tone fades away. His cock twitches, cum spurting over your thighs as he sits on his heels in frustration, not daring to touch himself as that would make this a sexual offence after the official Purge and therefore, illegal.

You just lie there, shaking violently, your head pounding and your throat too sore to swallow. Steve's breathing shallowly, blood pouring from his left eye.

“Well played,” he says after a while, the old charming smile coming back, his face wiping of all aggression. “I think that's out of my system now.”

“Leave me the fuck alone,” you push him off and he lets you.

Instead you go straight to Bucky, feeling around his neck for a pulse. It was there but it was barely registering.

“Did I kill him?” you could almost mistake the tone for remorse if you didn't know what Steve was capable of.

“No.”

“Good. I never wanted to let it get that far, you know. He-”

“-if you're gonna say he forced your hand, I'll put out your other eye,” you snarl with such venom that he falls silent.

You roll Bucky on his side so he coughs up the blood in his mouth. You can barely see the features of his face, it's that badly swollen.

“It's me, I'm here,” you whisper.

“D-d—d-doll,” he hacks up another lungful of viscous liquid.

“We made it,” you hold him. “We made it.”

“I hope you two are very happy together,” Steve covers his eye, the note of derision just about evident.

The Purgers seem to have gone because the Avengers that hadn't been drugged were limping into the penthouse bedroom, staring in horror at the carnage. Tony is being helped along by Pepper as he determinedly limps towards the panic room.

As he gets to the door, he can see the scene in plain view. Bucky broken on the floor, you covered in blood, bruises and cum and Steve with one working eye keeping a distance, his cock still out of his pants and softening by the moment.

“Morning,” Steve says casually. “Think you can call Doctor Cho?”

“No, no I don't think so,” Tony looks like he's going to pop his jaw, he's clenching that hard.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Tony, Purge is over. I'm back to the same annoying guy you've always known. This is out of my system now.”

“Bullshit,” you stand up, swaying a little. “You've always been a monster, Steve. You committed awful crimes before the Purge was even a thing. You're a criminal.”

“What do you mean?” Pepper asks, looking horrified.

“Ask him what he did to Bucky in the forties,” your voice waivers. “ASK HIM!”

“That we were lovers? Of course that was illegal. It was the forties,” Steve tries to play it off. “People got shot for that.”

“Oh no,” Pepper's eyes widen as she realises what you mean and whispers in Tony's ear.

“Jesus Christ, Rogers!” Tony's voice cracks.

“Tony, you know who I am. I'm a good person,” Steve steps forward. “Please just find me a doctor. I can save my eye.”

“Get out.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Get out and don't ever come back here, Steve. You're sick, seriously fucking sick, Rogers.”

“And that's what you all think?” Steve addresses Sam and Clint.

“This was not okay, man,” Sam shakes his head, looking ill. “I thought you were better than that.”

“If I ever see you around this complex, I'm putting an arrow in your face,” Clint folds his arms, his expression hard.

“You tortured this poor girl all night, you violated her, you hurt her, you humiliated her just like you did to your supposed best friend,” Tony stands a little straighter. “And I don't want a man like that near me. You will never been an Avenger again. You've made a mockery of everything that title stood for. Get out.”

Steve seems like he's going to let loose and go on another rampage again but he just finally shrugs, casting one last glance at you and winking with his good eye before leaving the room.

Pepper leaves Tony's side and grabs something from her dresser, coming to you and handing you a skirt.

“For your modesty,” she says quietly. “Come on, let's get you sorted.”

She helps you into it before you half collapse on the floor, trying to see if Bucky was okay. He was moving at least and he made a grab for you.

“Did he hurt...hurt you?” he groans through the pain.

“Yes but it's over now. He stopped at the sirens,” you reassure him.

“Let me kill him,” he tries to get up but grunts in agony.

“Please just rest. We're gonna get you a doctor,” you smooth his matted hair back, tears spilling down your cheeks. “It's over. It's finally over, Bucky.”

“James, call me James doll. Can't stand the nickname after....after him,” Bucky's eyes roll back into his head and he passes out.

Tony's immediately calling Cho whilst Pepper and Sam take over nurse duties. You stand up, stumbling out of the panic room and taking deep shuddering breathes.

The Purge was done.

You looked up, seeing Steve lingering by the elevator as he smiles warmly at you. He reaches for the blood on his face and starts drawing something on the elevator doors which open before you can see what he did.

When he turns around after getting in, his gaze is fixated on you until the very last second that the doors close again and you can finally see what he wrote.

**GOD FORGIVES**

  
  


  
  



	10. 365 Days 'Til Purge Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky recover and Election Day looms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, Smut
> 
> Final chapter, it's been a blast guys. Thank you for all your comments!  
> \- TLP xx
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

**GOD FORGIVES**

Seeing those words made your heart rate spike.

It was over. It should be over but you felt like this was just the beginning. You felt like Steve would never let you go.

Before you knew what was going on, Clint was catching you as you fell down, hyperventilating and twitching. You didn't know what was happening.

“TONY!” Clint calls, setting you down on the floor and helping you through the fit. “Get Cho now!”

“Shit!” Tony immediately gets on the line.

You turn to Bucky on the floor, desperate to reach out to him but he was barely responding any more. This felt like more than a panic attack, this felt like your muscles were rippling and lengthening and thickening, this felt like your bones were hardening.

You were screaming and had only just realised, the noise bouncing around the room.

You blacked out before you had to endure much longer.

  
  


**

  
  


“Shut up, she's waking up,” a hand gripping yours. “Doll? Doll can you hear me?”

Bucky.

“What...”

You open your eyes, wincing at the bright light as streamers swim in your vision. You can't focus on anything for a while until Bucky's face appears over yours, stitches and bruising rife.

“It's James. I'm here.”

“You're okay,” you half laugh, half sob.

The relief was overwhelming. The tears wouldn't stop as you reached up for him, wanting to hold his cheek but not wanting to cause him pain.

He decides for you though, taking your hand and placing it along his jaw, his crystalline eyes peering through the swollen sockets, concerned and worried.

“I'm fine. A little beat up but fine,” he tries to smile but it's taking a lot of effort for him. “What about you?”

“I don't know. I don't even know what happened.”

“I can help you there,” a voice says as you turn, expecting to see Doctor Cho but instead...

“Wanda?”

“Hey,” she holds your other hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Good...actually. I feel good. When did you get back?”

“This morning. First flight back after the Purge. Gothenburg was nice. Quiet. I think next time you two should listen to my advice and get out of the U.S. for a week.”

“Now is not the time for 'I told you so's,” Bucky frowns.

“No,” Wanda sighs. “Nobody expected Steve to do what he did. I should have been here. I could've stopped him.”

“Nobody is placing blame,” you cut in. “It happened and we need to make sure it doesn't happen again. Now will someone tell me why I'm in the hospital?”

“It's your physiology,” Wanda's hand glows with scarlet light as she moves it over your body. “It's changed.”

“She means Hydra made you into me,” Bucky's grip on your hand tightens. “To make sure you could carry a super soldier baby, they gave you the serum they were saving for Rumlow.”

“So I'm...I'm what? I'm a super soldier?”

“Enhanced, not for combat though, for durability,” Wanda's hand passes over your head. “Rumlow was badly injured. They were trying to make him indestructible, but for you, it makes the possibility of dying in labour a lot less. We gave you something to stop a pregnancy though. One less thing to worry about. I can't reverse what they did to you though, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. It just means if Steve ever comes back, I have a better chance of getting through it,” you sit up.

“I don't think he'll be showing his face for a while,” Bucky points to the TV screen in the corner.

Two CNN News anchors are discussing Steve and a poll flags up showing most of their viewership finds Steve's actions disgusting but there's still a firm forty percent that don't admonish him for it. There's a photo still of Steve forcing himself on you in the corner of the screen.

“Has anyone seen him since?” you ask.

“No and I don't like it,” Bucky says quietly. “He's in the wind for now.”

“Go on, you,” Wanda shoos him back. “She doesn't need negativity. She needs rest. Come back later.”

Bucky opens his mouth to argue but decides against it, leaning over instead and pressing his lips softly to yours.

“See you later, doll. I'm just gonna be outside. I'm not leaving until you're better.”

“I should hope not,” you smile. “You owe me a date, James.”

“Sure do,” he grins back. “Sure do.”

  
  


**

_Ten months 'til next Purge Night_

  
  


You're outside the fancy restaurant, dressed in a gown that Tony had bought you for the specific task of 'giving that old timer a coronary'. It was floor length, a ruby crushed velvet that hugged your body in just the right way and showed off your cleavage with that fine line between classy and attention seeking.

You enter, the maitre'd knowing you apparently on sight and directing you to a table hidden from view. When you approach, you see Bucky in a suit, nervously fiddling with a napkin.

The bruises on his face had healed for the most part, although there was still a faint grey tinge where they'd been at their worst and a small scar along his cheek that was starting to silver out. To you, he was beautiful.

“Hi,” you say as you reach the table.

He looks up and drops the napkin, his pupils blowing out, “Holy shit, doll. Are we sure Steve didn't kill me on Purge night because I have to be in heaven right now.”

“That's the cheesiest line you could've used,” you roll your eyes sitting down opposite.

“But true,” the smile was beaming as he topped up your wine glass where his eyes drag back up to your appearance. “Goddamn.”

The date with Bucky felt easy, natural even. You talked about childhoods and modern etiquette before finding common interests in books that you had no idea someone like him would read. Not once do you talk about the Purge or Steve after his initial comment and you realise that you have something more than a shared trauma experience, you actually have chemistry and commonality.

“God, is it that late already?” Bucky checks his pocket watch. “We'd better go before Tony's secret theater closes.”

“Secret theater?”

“I don't know either. I'm just going where he tells me to.”

You catch a cab to a location that Bucky has written down, seeing that it's a building that looks very sketchy on the outside.

“Sure this is it?” you ask.

“Stay behind me just in case,” Bucky murmurs as you approach the run down structure.

His hand on the door, he opens it before checking the corridor and then laughing.

“Jesus Christ, Tony,” he pulls you in and you see a private viewing area.

Instead of chairs, there's a bed with a smaller mattress for a headboard, side tables that have champagne and chocolates and rose petals everywhere. The screen itself took up the whole wall.

“I think he wants us to get cosy,” you ditch your purse and shawl on a chair by the door.

“Only if you're okay with it.”

“I am. Now I wonder what we're watching.”

The second you get yourself settled on the bed, the screen flickers into life. Looks like Tony was being coy in showing you Casablanca, really playing to Bucky's idea of a traditional date.

During the film, you both gravitate closer and closer to each other until your head is resting on his chest. He interlinks fingers with you, kissing the top of your head occasionally but never pushing it further than that.

Sometime nearing the end of the film, you gaze up at him and he looks down at you, eyes twinkling and creasing. There was an unspoken moment of tension before you moved up and began kissing him sweetly.

It had been years since you'd just made out with someone this way but Bucky had this effect of making the action much more wholesome rather than sexually loaded.

“I wish I'd spoken to you sooner,” he breaks away, stroking your hair back. “And got you away from America.”

“We can't deal in what-if's, James. What's important is now and what's in front of us.”

“Doll, this is incredibly forward but after everything we've been through, I don't wanna waste time being unsure to ask things. Can I make love to you? You look so beautiful and I just feel like it's right-”

“-Yes,” you pull his face towards you. “Yes it is right. Make love to me.”

“If you want me to stop at any point, you just tell me, okay?” he leans up and over you. “Any point.”

“Same goes for you,” you nod.

There was no aggression to his movements, only a loving gentleness that already had you moaning softly for him as the kiss deepened. You tugged off his jacket, undoing his shirt buttons slowly until you were able to push it over his shoulders. The bullet wound in his arm was still an angry pink but was nowhere near as bad.

“I'm in a dilemma, doll,” Bucky whispers. “I love this dress on you but I also wanna see underneath. Help a guy out in choosin'?”

“Take it off,” you move so he can undo the zipper. “I mean I wore nice underwear just in case.”

As the dress is peeled away, you can hear his sharp intake of breath, “I am the luckiest guy in the goddamn world.”

He gingerly takes your panties off, rolling over you, “I'm gonna use my mouth if that's okay with you?”

“Please.”

And when his tongue delved into your folds, it was nothing like Steve's brutality. There was only his teasing touch and the groans he made whenever he felt you twitch under his handiwork. You had been worried about having flashbacks, getting panicky but it was such a contrast that you were completely calm and relaxed.

“You taste so good,” he breathes before returning, flicking his tongue against your clit softly.

It should've taken you an age to start that telltale build, usually you needed a bit more pressure but something about the way that he was so light was driving you crazy and your hands buried themselves in his hair, knocking it out of its bun as you carded through, desperately holding him.

With a stuttered cry you came hard, bucking against his mouth as he moved back, grinning so widely that you saw shades of the ladies' man he used to be.

“You're beautiful,” he murmurs before taking his pants off and boxers. “I'm so happy you felt okay during that. I was nervous.”

“Hey, get up here,” you crook your finger at him. “Somebody is supposed to make love to me.”

“And I'll gladly accept,” he lines himself up, making sure he's not overwhelming you with his body. “Sure about this?”

“Yes, James. Please.”

He glides in, thick cock stretching you out after the tightness of the orgasm. Once he's fully seated, he stops, leaning down to kiss you before starting a easy rocking motion.

This felt right. After all the hospital visits, Bucky turning up at your house daily with coffee and breakfast, this was the natural next step. This was something far more than the Purge throwing you together.

“I love you,” you moan out, back arching, head leaning back.

You didn't even care that he might not say it back. It just needed to be said.

“Oh doll,” he peppers your face with tiny kisses. “I love you. You have no idea how happy that makes me. I love you.”

The film had long since finished before the two of you were finally satiated.

  
  


**

_Seven months 'til next Purge Night_

  
“Oh fuck, James,” you cry out as he fucked you hard across the conference table.

“You like that, huh? Tell me how much you wanna cum,” he grunts, pounding into you.

“I need it! I need to cum, please!”

“Nuh uh, doll. Not yet. I'll tell you when you can. Look at me.”

You open your eyes to see his, so full of lust and dominance. Your pussy clenches around his cock at the sight.

“Fuuuuck,” he chuckles. “I love it when you do that. Hold on a bit longer.”

“I can't,” you whine, feeling the band of pressure tightening and tightening.

“Tell me you love me. Scream it. Cum now.”

“I love you!” the sound echoes around the room leaving a dull ringing in your ears as you came so hard your vision darkened for a second.

“I love you too, sugar,” he pushes as deep as he can go, coating your walls in his warmth until you were two panting messes, holding each other tightly.

“Shit, you are amazing,” he kisses you roughly before pulling out and redressing himself.

You and Bucky had slowly been building up to the level of sex you'd experienced at the Carnival. He'd made sure that you always felt loved and safe and refused to use the pet names Steve had used with you. Gradually his more domineering side had come back and you realised just how much you wanted it.

It was a step to feeling normal again.

“That was mean,” you shove him lightly as you pull your dress back on.

“I just like watching your thighs shake that hard while you're trying not to cum,” he smirks. “Drives me wild.”

“Pervert.”

He kisses you again before squeezing you to him tightly.

“Doll, being with you make me feel like myself again, the man I was. Thank you for helping me find him,” he strokes your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I really do love you, you know.”

“I know,” you smile at him.

It'd been humbling to see the change in Bucky. Gone were the surly glowers, gone were the stilted one word answers and in its place, he was being more social than ever and even cracking jokes with the other Avengers.

“Oh my god,” a voice from the doorway. “Please tell me you did not just bone on my Bocote table?”

“Alright, I won't tell you,” you peer around Bucky to see Tony looking mortified.

“You two are insatiable. Now I know how people felt around me before I got with Pepper,” Tony holds up his hands. “Get lost, love birds. I need to decontaminate this thing before our next meeting. Christ.”

Bucky just sniggers before leaving the room first and as you leave, Tony flashes you a wink to let you know he's just joking. Tony had actually been the biggest advocate of your relationship and had given you everything to try and heal from Purge Night.

Life was looking up.

  
  


**

_Two months 'til Purge Night  
Election Day _

  
  


You stood slightly off the stage, watching Jean Munroe as she delivered her final speech. The roar of the crowd gave you hope that maybe she'd get enough votes to win this thing and repeal the Purge Act.

She walks off towards you, shaking your hand and Bucky's and giving a giddy giggle.

“God I hope that was okay,” she pushes her glasses up her nose nervously. “I'm really hoping there's going to be a big swing towards repeal after everything.”

“I hope so too,” you give her a hug. “You were wonderful up there.”

“You'll do great,” Bucky flashes her a smile.

When the pro-Purge candidate, Pat Moran steps on the stage, you ignore him for the most part, still talking to Jean but when Steve's name is mentioned, you look up wildly.

“-If our great Captain America can indulge in the Purge and be a model citizen the rest of the year, this sets an example to us that the Purge is necessary. Our aggression can be contained and expelled on a single night. His example shows us that even our heroes need outlets so we should not be ashamed like Jean Munroe would have us be.”

There's a few cries of 'yeah!' from the audience.

“And he's here today to tell us in his own words about why the Purge must remain.”

“What?!” you blurt out. “Steve's here?!”

Bucky immediately grabs for you, protectively pulling you out of sight of the stage but you see him. Steve walks out in his Captain America uniform, his hair cropped but the beard still full and an eyepatch adorning his left eye.

At least you permanently damaged the fucker.

“I didn't know he was going to be here,” Jean is immediately apologetic.

“It's alright, I don't think Pat warned anyone,” Bucky scowls towards the stage area where Steve is beginning to speak.

“I'm not a perfect man,” Steve starts. “That mantle was forced on me by those who wanted to idolise me. I'm just a Brooklyn kid who gets the same dark urges that many people do. I serve my country, I do my patriotic duty and the Purge helps me to keep my mind clear. Who are we to deny our citizens the right to calm themselves? Who are we to take away their constitutional freedoms? The Purge _must_ remain.”

“Shit, I think he has me sunk,” Jean chews on the end of her blazer sleeve. “This is a pretty Pro-Purge city and the poster boy of America is endorsing them. I'm just another bleeding heart liberal.”

“Have faith,” you take her hand. “The Purge has run its course.”

“I hope you're right,” she squeezes you.

There's the sound of a gunshot and screaming and Jean's security team immediately bundle her away. You break free of Bucky, running to the side of the stage to see Pat on the floor with blood pouring from his neck.

Everything is chaos.

Amidst it all, Steve grabs the microphone and shouts into it, “Is that what you want to return to?! Murder every day on the streets?! This is what Jean Munroe would have us go back to! They assassinated a government official.”

“No,” you shake your head, repeating the word over and over.

Steve had planned this. Steve had executed the Pro-Purge senator to make Jean's credibility vanish, to stir up anti-repeal sentiment. Fucking smart bastard.

There was a moment where Steve looked towards you, his good eye meeting yours and the smirk on his face makes your skin crawl.

He mouths to you, “Hey sweetheart. Missed you.”

Bucky grabs you around the middle, pulling you away and out of the insanity towards the SUV you'd arrived in. He peels out of the rally, heading towards your shared home.

“What were you thinking?!” he yells. “Why did you let him see you?!”

“I just needed to know,” you fire back. “I needed to know what was going on. He set this up, James. He set the whole thing up. Jean is going to lose this election.”

“The Anti-Purge movement is everywhere,” Bucky argues.

“It's not enough! Listen to me!” you shout. “She's going to lose. Purge Night will go ahead in two months. Steve will come after us again.”

“Shit....FUCK!” Bucky slams his hand on the wheel. “Is there anything we can do?”

“We can prepare,” you sit back in the seat. “Train me. Teach me to fight. Teach me every weapon you can. This time we're not gonna leave him alive.”

You expect him to protest, to say it wasn't safe or that he would never want you to kill. Instead he says, “No mercy because he showed us none to start with.”

“Agreed.”

That night, Jean Munroe lost the election by nine electoral college votes.

  
  


**

_Purge Night 2027_

  
  


You moved across the grounds of Steve's ostentatious mansion that he'd bought with his government bribe, ignoring the Purge revellers in their Captain America masks as they walked by. Tony had given you the location that morning.

You knew Steve wouldn't make it out of his house on the cusp of the sirens but you and Bucky were waiting near the fence as the final one sounded off. You were strapped to the hilt with guns and knives, dressed in a tactical vest and combat pants.

You were taking no chances.

You got to the side door, Bucky grabbing the electronic panel and wrenching the wires loose. Immediately one half of the house was pitched into darkness and the door lock was rendered useless. You picked the manual lock before entering, gun at the ready as you swept through the lower levels.

As you hit the corridor, you could hear music, forties music was floating down from the upper level. Probably a gramophone by the way you could hear the occasional pop and hiss.

You motioned up to Bucky who got your meaning and took the lead, carefully treading up the carpeted stairs and now you could see a solitary room that was spilling light out into the hallway. You and Bucky both took one side of the door, guns prepped before Bucky kicks it open, storming in.

“I knew you'd come back to me. My children,” came that calm voice that you'd grown to hate so much.

Steve was sitting in an armchair, his old suit he wore on the run was even more damaged now but he wore it nonetheless. The thing that disturbed you most was a half mask over his face, covering his missing eye with the word 'God' written on the forehead like some demented Phantom of the Opera.

“Save it,” you hiss. “Why are you just sitting there?”

“I knew you'd come,” Steve shrugs. “I tested you both last Purge night and I knew you'd come here to see me.”

“Tested us?!” you're shaking with rage. “You still don't get it, do you? You're not some almighty being who has worshippers. You're just a bully.”

“Am I? Look what's come out of it. I've seen how happy you two are together. I made that happen. I brought love to you both.”

“What do you mean, seen us?” Bucky looks pale.

“Your dates, when you moved into your house, the way you control her during sex and she completely submits to you.”

“You were spying on us.”

“Of course I was,” Steve stood up, silhouetted by the light of the fire which made his appearance more monstrous. “I missed you both. You threw me out of your lives but that's okay. I forgive you. It's been good to see you both doing so well.”

Why weren't you firing right now? You should've put a bullet in his face but you felt like you needed to hear him out for some reason. You think Bucky was having the same thoughts.

“I also saw your doctor's appointment yesterday,” Steve continues, looking at you. “Congratulations are in order.”

“What? What's he talking about?” Bucky glances at you before training his gaze back on Steve.

“You followed me to that?” you ignore Bucky's question.

“I wanted to make sure you were well. I don't like the thought of you being sick. I didn't realise what you went for until I paid off the doctor to see your records.”

“Tell me what's going on,” Bucky's jaw locks.

“She's pregnant, Buck,” Steve smiles widely. “Our girl is pregnant. Isn't that wonderful?”

Bucky looks at you in shock but you keep your eyes on Steve, not trusting that he won't do anything if you're distracted.

“That true, doll?”

“Only a month. I was late, I wanted to be sure. I was going to talk to you about it after Purge Night to see what you wanted to do,” you admit. “I can't believe you paid to see my records, Steve. You're still as fucked up as ever and it's not _your_ child.”

“I'm responsible for you two getting together so it's as much a part of me as it is you,” Steve wags a finger. “So what did you come here for, really? You haven't shot me yet.”

“Just wanting to see if you were still out of your mind, which you clearly are,” Bucky grunts. “You're never gonna come near her or my kid. This ends now.”

“Ah. That's the way it's gonna be, huh? You turn on me when I gave you the gift of love?”

You're so incensed that you fire a shot which wings Steve in the shoulder as he ducks out of the way. In a flash, the calm demeanour is gone and Steve yanks a shotgun from off the mantlepiece, firing blithely at Bucky who throws himself out of the room.

“So we're at a stalemate,” Steve sighs, rolling his injured shoulder and grimacing. “I was hoping you would both see sense but apparently not. I have missed your fire though, sweetheart.”

“Just die,” you snarl, firing off again but he's too quick, already running towards you and he slams the butt of the shotgun into your temple.

You go down, sprawling over the other armchair, your weight tipping it back and you end up in a heap on the floor. Bucky's back in the room, grappling with Steve as the guns get knocked away.

You scramble across the floor, pistol raised for a better shot but it was hard when the two men kept twirling around as they fought. You took a steadying breath and squeezed the trigger.

Steve yelped as the bullet sank into his kneecap, making him drop to the floor. Bucky takes that opportunity to hammer blows onto Steve's face, splitting his lip, busting his nose and making the mask clatter off. The empty eye socket makes him look truly grotesque as the skin sags around it, blood flecking around the hole.

“We don't belong to you!” Bucky bellows, his metal fist breaking Steve's cheekbone.

“'Course you do, Buck. You'll never be free of me, even if you Purge me. I made this happen. I awakened you both,” Steve seems delirious.

“You didn't awake shit. You just broke us,” another blow that dislocates Steve's jaw.

Steve tries to fight back by punching Bucky in the groin, sending the latter toppling over. He pulled out a knife and was about to stab Bucky in the chest when you shot his hand, the blade spinning off as Steve shrieked in pain.

You sprint forward, kicking Steve in the face to push him back whilst picking Bucky up. You train the pistol on Steve who was just laughing on the floor.

“God creates,” he manages to get out around his broken jaw.

“Together,” you look at Bucky quickly, grabbing his hand and placing it on the pistol too on the trigger.

“Together,” Bucky says quietly as you both squeeze hard.

Steve Rogers fell backwards, the ghost of a smile forever etched upon his lips.

You were free.

  
  


**

  
  


_Steven Grant “Captain America” Rogers_

_July 4 th 1918 – March 21st 2027_

_A National Icon Purged._

  
  



End file.
